


It's a Small World

by peach_n_creamm



Series: Alternate Universe [20]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Adopted Children, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bottom Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Dialogue Heavy, Jewish Bruce Wayne, M/M, Oblivious Bruce Wayne, Past Sexual Assault, Pets, Single Parent Bruce Wayne, Switch Bruce Wayne, Top Clark Kent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:01:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 41
Words: 93,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22556779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peach_n_creamm/pseuds/peach_n_creamm
Summary: Bruce has four boys to take care of. And a business to run. He doesn't have time for reporters to come eat away his hours for some news story. He's a busy man.But at least the reporter is cute.(All explicit sexual content is clearly marked)
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson/Wally West, Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne
Series: Alternate Universe [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/261154
Comments: 236
Kudos: 588





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce has an interview.

Bruce was stressed. He needed to get the kids fed and off to school. Tim had to remember his school project for science class and Damian had a book report due on Friday. Dick had gymnastics coaching after school and silks after coaching. So Bruce needed to make sure he had leftovers in the fridge when he got home. He had a meeting with a reporter today and wouldn't be able to pick Jason up after school, so he would need to remind Alfred.

Breakfast was a hassle. Dick was always up at the crack of dawn and could typically take care of himself. Jason had decided that now he was a raw vegan, which Bruce didn't really get, but he knew he would drink a smoothie as long as Bruce used almond milk instead of yogurt. Tim would eat anything Bruce set in front of him, he was easy. Damian wasn't completely halal, but he wouldn't eat pork, and he hated eggs.

Dick was already in the kitchen, reading and eating a piece of toast. 

"Do you sleep?" Bruce asked. Dick was always up first and always the last to go to bed. 

"Yeah, on occasion." He said with a shrug, "Can I go see a movie with a friend on Friday?"

"Do I know this friend?" Bruce asked. He grabbed a bag of frozen fruit from the fridge along with the carton of almond milk.

"I don't think so. He runs track." Dick said. 

"And is he just a friend?" Bruce raised an eyebrow. He never really asked about Dick's preferences, but he'd dated around in both pools, and that seemed answer enough.

"For now." He smiled. Bruce blended up the fruit and milk with some ice. 

"Fine." Bruce sighed, "Whatever happened to that cute redhead girl?" 

"Oh we broke up. She found out I was a Pisces Aries cusp and freaked out because she's a Capricorn moon and then her tarot cards said that I was cheating on her or something." He said. Bruce just blinked.

"Were you?" 

"No, of course not." Dick rolled his eyes.

"Good boy. Can you go wake Jason up for me? I have to make something for Tim and me." Bruce said. Dick bounced up the stairs. Bruce fried some eggs and made some toast for Tim and himself. Damian had cereal, or Alfred's homemade toaster waffles to pick from.

Jason and Dick looked a little too similar for being adopted by two different families. Both had the same thin angular face, the same soft cheeks, the same rounded blue eyes, same thick dark hair. Dick put on more muscle because of his acrobatics, Jason was a shade paler and his hair longer. Bruce handed him the smoothie.

"I've got a meeting so Alfred is picking you up after school today." Bruce told him.

"Why can't I just ride the bus home? Or walk?" Jason pouted. 

"You know exactly why." Bruce said. He waited for Jason to respond. He never did, "And why might that be?" 

"Because you found pot in my room. And now I'm grounded for a month." Jason hung his head. Bruce ruffled his long hair. 

"Good boy. So Alfred will pick you up today." Bruce told him. He knew he was supposed to ride out the rebellion, let it fizzle out on its own. But he cared a lot more about teaching him a consequence. Tim and Damien ran down the stairs.

Tim excitedly wolfed down his breakfast without hardly taking a breath. Damian was already dressed and ready to go, so he meticulously selected the perfect cereal and poured a bowl. 

Dick was in charge of dropping off the kids at school. Bruce made sure everyone had lunches made and extra cash just in case. Everyone had their homework and backpacks and projects ready to go. Which meant Bruce needed to get to work.

He drove to the office, listening to his podcasts to help distract him from the crushing city traffic. He had a meeting with Retail about increasing ethical sourcing. BioTech wanted to send an aid team to China. Medical wanted funding for a med center at the Mexican border. And he had an interview with the Daily Planet.

Silena greeted him in his office. She had a pair of cat eyeglasses and a leather pencil skirt that was maybe a bit too short to be work appropriate. Bruce wasn't oblivious to the rumors, he just didn't care. Silena ran him through his calendar and updated him on who called about what and when. 

He thanked her and asked if she could get him the blackest, strongest, cold brew she could get her hands on. She giggled and nodded as she left the room. 

~*~

Silena walked into his office with a tall, dark-haired man, "Your appointment with the Daily Planet is here."

Bruce stood up and straightened his jacket. The man reached out and shook his hand. He had a chiseled face and thick horn-rimmed glasses. He wore a shirt and tie with a navy blue cardigan. He carried a laptop case with him, "Clark Kent, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Bruce Wayne, the pleasure's all mine." He gestured for him to take a seat. Silena picked up his empty coffee cup with her long, pointed nails painted cherry red. 

"You're really letting yourself go." She smirked, "What would you do without me."

She didn't wait for an answer before she left the two men alone. Clark tried to hide his stares at her back as she left the room. 

"I believe she said she's your assistant?" Clark asked him. 

"Yes. She's an important girl around here, does her job well." Bruce said. 

"Off the record, is there a personal connection between you two?" His eyes were wide. 

"We grew up together. She needed a job, I had an opening." Bruce said briefly, "That's the extent of it really."

"Oh, I see. How generous of you. Do you mind if I record this?" Clark asked, holding up a recorder. Bruce shrugged slightly. 

"Go on ahead." He said. 

"The Wayne Foundation recently announced a drive to supply Gotham's schools with menstrual product dispensers. As a single father of four boys, what brought the issue to your awareness?" Clark asked. He had a notepad and pen out to scribble down notes as they talked.

"My oldest actually. He started bringing pads to school just in case a friend had an emergency. I just helped take it a step further." Bruce responded.

"What do you hope will come of the drive?" Clark asked. 

"I hope to see every bathroom, both men's and women's, fully equipped with proper menstrual products." Bruce replied. He remembered Dick telling him all about the problems the girls at school had. He had a big heart and an eccentric way of living his life.

"Do you get a lot of inspiration from your kids?" Clark asked.

"Absolutely. My goal, in the end, is to make life better for them." Bruce said.

"What other action would you like to take some time in the future because of your kids? Just theoretically." Clark asked. 

"Well, I would love to implement a new system for drug prevention in youth. Something educational besides fear tactics. More halal and kosher options for lunches or snacks at school. I think above all, I want to bring in more youth groups or clubs, something to bring a sense of community to the kids." Bruce listed off. He thought about how lonely Jason seemed. How much brighter Dick could be if he could bring light to more people. He thought about Tim's robotics and Damian's struggle between two cultures.

Clark seemed a little dreamy. He had half a smile on his face, his eyes trained lazily on Bruce. Something twisted in Bruce's gut, and he smiled. Clark blinked and shook his head slightly. He looked down at his notepad.

"Wayne Medical was largely responsible for getting flu vaccines to people being held at border control. Was this in any way a political stance?" Clark asked, leaning forward.

"Absolutely not. My political views are private information. However, people are people, and the flu is a deadly illness that only gets more dangerous in overcrowded spaces, like the CBP. That is American soil, and if I can do something to protect the people in my country, then I will. I would like to note that none of our practitioners ever worked inside the boundaries of the CBP." Bruce said. Clark smirked. 

"Always at least 20 feet away from every entrance." Clark said.

"And our aim was simply to provide vaccines to Mexican families in need. We had no intention of targeting the border in any way." Bruce said with a wink. He knew his rights as a private organization. He found every loophole, every gray area, every safe zone. And he made himself completely untouchable.

"May ask some more personal questions? You're somewhat of an enigma to the public eye and we're looking to shed light on that." Clark said with a smile. Bruce liked the man, he was clean-cut and polite.

"Ask away. I'll answer what I want to." Bruce said. He liked his private life. He liked his walls up. He wanted to keep the public eye on his logo, not his face. 

"What made you decide to adopt four boys?" Clark asked. 

"I actually only adopted three boys. But it started with Dick. I don't know if you remember the news stories, but the circus his parents worked for was attacked and they were killed. He had nowhere to go, and something about him resonated with me. So I adopted him when he was eight. Jason was already in foster care when I met him, he tried to steal my tires. Tim was a genius, and I wanted to see him flourish." Bruce explained, leaning back in his chair. He watched Clark shift in his seat. 

"I thought you had four kids." He furrowed his brows. 

"I do. But Damian is mine." Bruce said matter-of-factly. 

"Would you mind elaborating? I thought your last relationship was 15 years ago." Clark asked. 

"I took a business trip to Cairo a while back. Some unsettling events happened, and then three years ago, Damian's mother left him with me." Bruce said, "We had testing done and he's definitely mine."

"Has there been any other romantic interest in your life since then?" Clark asked. He wasn't looking at his notepad. Bruce laughed. 

"No, not with four kids. Of course, there's been a fling or two, and the occasional office gossip about me sleeping with whoever. But I don't have the time." Bruce shook his head. Clark's shoulders seemed to fall slightly for a moment. But they picked back quickly. 

"Mr. Wayne. Would you like to meet for coffee?" Clark leaned forward.

"All my scheduling goes through Ms. Kyle, so you should take it up with her." Bruce pointed through the doors where her desk would be behind the wall. 

"Oh, it'll just be a casual follow up. Much less strictly business I would think." Clark said. Bruce's heart beat hard in his chest. His body felt angry, but his head felt embarrassed, "When do you get off work?" 

Bruce blanked. Lately, he was getting off at three to pick up Jason. But before that five or six. But Alfred was picking up Jason today, and he could stay with Damian and Tim until Dick got home. But Bruce should really cook dinner for them. Alfred had cooked the past two nights. Which means he should really be home by six. But he had a meeting at 2:30 that would probably go until four. 

"I can probably squeeze something in between 4 and 5:30." He said, "But I've got to be home by six."

"So I'll stop by around four?" Clark asked. 

"Why don't we meet somewhere. Just in case my meeting runs long." Bruce said. 

"Alright. I can meet you at Miss Mooney's at four." He stood to leave, "And I'll let Ms. Kyle know about the follow-up."

He shook Bruce's hand one last time and walked out the door. He had left a folded up slip of paper in Bruce's hand. 

_Can't wait for our follow up with no ulterior motives x_

It was followed by a string of digits. A phone number. He called out for Silena. A few moments letter she entered the room. 

"What's he talking about?" He held out the slip of paper. She took it from him and sat on his desk, legs crossed. She read it over. 

"What do you mean?" She asked, "It was obvious as soon as he walked in the room."

"What?" 

"He's crushing on you hard. He found an in and shot for it." She leaned back on her hands and turned so she sat more on her hip than her thighs. 

"Then I'm not going. He's here for the money." Bruce said. Silena groaned.

"When was the last time you went out?" She asked.

"Tim had a science fair over the summer that I took the kids to." Bruce muttered. 

"That doesn't count." She knelt down on the desk, "Go out. Have fun. Be the sugar daddy you were always meant to be. It's just coffee."

"I'm not a sugar daddy." Bruce told her. 

"So pretend. Use your imagination." She tapped his nose. He huffed lightly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick has an accident.

Bruce walked into the little cafe, feeling very out of place. The walls were covered in strange art, the barista had holes in his ears big enough for Bruce's thumbs to fit through. He ordered a drink and searched for Clark. He waved from a corner table, away from the crowd.

"I'm glad you made it." He said with a small smile, "You look nice."

Bruce had left his jacket in the car, instead of leaving his sleeves rolled up past his elbows, "Thank you. I like your glasses."

"This is kind of weird. I know that, so I really am happy you came. You just seemed like such an interesting person. And you're so different than what I was expecting." Clark leaned forward. 

"A lot of people say that to me. I don't know why I'm not putting on a show or anything." Bruce said. He'd had a hard time relating to other people his whole life. As a child, he preferred the company of adults and books over his peers, and he never felt totally comfortable during conversation. He never had many friends. 

"I don't believe you are. But you hear about all these big parties and bold business moves, and you're kind of a big guy. You're tall and muscular, and honestly a little intimidating." Clark explained, "I guess I got the impression you were a loud, outspoken, eccentric humanitarian shrouded in a veil of mystery."

"You make me sound like an ass." Bruce said. It felt weird to swear. Especially without following it up by reminding close company to do as he says not as he does. Damian was only 10 after all. 

"Maybe I thought you were kind of an ass. But you're pretty quiet and well-spoken. I might even say a little shy." Clark leaned forward, elbows on the table. 

Bruce caught a glimpse of a bracelet around his wrist, a black leather cord braided into a circle. Hiding the seam was a silver ring etched with six stripes arranged in a rainbow. He gestured to the bracelet.

"Oh, yeah. I'm bi, I just thought the rainbow looked better." He said. Bruce nodded, "What about you?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"Gay, straight, bi, pan, ace, aro, what tickles your fancy?" Clark smiled. Bruce thought for a moment. Silena kissed him when he was 13, and he enjoyed that. He'd had an experimental phase in his early 20s. At some point, he'd had sex with Talia, but he couldn't remember that if his life depended on it. But he hadn't ever really thought about it before.

"You know. I'm 44, and I have no idea. The answer never mattered much to me." Bruce shrugged, "Always assumed straight because that's kind of the default."

Clark had an interesting expression. Bruce couldn't quite place it, "Would you want to date another man?" 

"I'm not against the idea." Bruce answered. Clark smiled a little bit. 

"Well then, would you like to maybe go out with me sometime?" He asked. Bruce pondered.

"Sure, I'd give it a shot. Although I guess I still don't know much about you." Bruce said. He was wary of ulterior motives, but a date could help him feel out the situation a bit better.

"Then I'll give you a short rundown. My parents adopted me as a baby and I grew up on a farm in Kansas. I moved away after college and got a job working for the Daily Planet as a journalist. I do a lot of political and business journalism." Clark said. Bruce opened his mouth to respond when his phone rang. He scowled and checked the ID.

"Excuse me, it's my son." He said before answering the phone, "Dick, aren't you supposed to be training today?" 

"Yeah. I was." He sounded out of breath. 

"Are you okay?" Bruce asked. 

"I think so. I was kicking out a footlock and my grip slipped. I wasn't too high up, but I'm in a lot of pain. I'm having some trouble sitting up, could you come and pick me up please?" Dick asked. Bruce sighed. 

"How did you land?" He asked. 

"I was sideways, so I landed on my back on a mat." Dick explained. 

"I'll call you again when I'm close. Knees to chest, deep breaths. Do you have someone to take your car?" Bruce asked. 

"No. My spotter went home early today, I was just finishing up when I fell." He said. 

"I'll bring someone. We'll have Alfred check you over and see if you need a doctor." Bruce hung up the phone and looked to Clark, "Do you want to go on a quick trip with me?"

"I'd love to. I walked, so I can just ride with you?" He looked inquisitive. Bruce nodded. 

~*~

He unlocked the gym door. Dick was laying on a foam mat waiting for them. Bruce saw him wince as he propped himself up on his elbows. He slowly sat up as Bruce knelt next to him. Bruce squished Dick's toes and watched them quickly turn back to their normal pink color. 

"Roll your shoulders?" He asked. Dick could halfway roll his shoulders, "Head circles." He slowly tilted his head left and right, face contorting with pain, "Any danger symptoms?"

"Ringing in the ears. I feel dizzy. My arms feel tingly, but I can still feel my fingers." Dick said. Bruce nodded.

"You may have a little whiplash. Let's get you in the car and we'll talk to Alfred. Do you have your keys?" Bruce asked. Dick pointed to his bag. Bruce rummaged around until he found the car keys. He tossed them to Clark, "I'll take him in my car because it's a little bigger. You can take his car. He's 18, so I apologize for whatever is in there. I'll text you the address just in case we lose you."

He left out the part about the tracker in the keys. Bruce helped Dick stand up, and let his son use him as a crutch to walk outside. He helped get him situated and they drove to the house. Clark parked in the driveway behind Bruce. Alfred was already outside helped get Dick inside. Bruce had texted him the details of the situation.

With Dick taken care of, Bruce invited Clark inside. His eyes went wide with the old manor. A family heirloom. Tim ran up to Bruce and hugged him. He was bouncing with energy.

"Dad, come see what I made." He pulled Bruce into the library. 

"I'll come to see quick. It has to be fast because Dick got hurt. But I promise to come back and you can tell me more." Bruce told him. He followed him in. 

Tim held up a little model train. He had an electric kettle running and he poured the boiling water into a small hole in the train. It jerked forward a few feet before sputtering out. Clark's jaw dropped to the floor.

"How old are you?" He asked.

"12." Tim responded. He seemed confused.

"And you just made this?" Clark pointed at the little train. Tim nodded. 

"And it's fantastic. However, you haven't worked on your packaging. So why don't you edit for the final draft while we get Dick all healed up? Then we can gather for a proper pitch meeting." Bruce told him. Tim nodded, beaming with excitement. Clark followed Bruce from room to room, head whipping around to take in everything he could. 

They found Alfred and Dick in the kitchen. Dick was sitting on a barstool with his shirt off. Alfred poked at his back. His back was striped red and white. Alfred ran his fingers over each white stripe, waiting for Dick's reaction. Dick sucked in a breath when Alfred hit a sensitive spot. Then again a moment later. Alfred moved Dick's head around, then his shoulders, then his arms.

"Well, it seems like you'll be alright in the end. But you're in for a hell of a month. You broke two ribs and have some whiplash. Nothing severe, you'll recover, but it won't be fun." Alfred said. He handed him an ice pack and a bottle of ibuprofen.

"How long am I out?" Dick asked. 

"A month at least. No strenuous activity until there's no more pain. That means no more silks until you're healed up." Alfred told him. Dick pouted. 

"You want to get back up there?" Clark asked, his eyes wide with shock, "You just broke two of your ribs." 

"Yeah. I just made a dumb mistake doing something I do all the time." Dick shrugged, "Besides, I've got a really good routine I'm practicing."

"You perform?" Clark asked.

"Of course. Performance is in my blood, I have to." He said with a shrug, "And a month is way too long to stay on the ground." He glared at Alfred.

"Well that's your own damn fault then, isn't it." He raised an eyebrow, "I'd also like it if you would stay at home whenever possible and rest. Although, once that bruising sets in you won't want to do much of anything."

"But I was gonna go out with a boy." Dick swung his legs like a toddler. 

"Alfred knows best, stay home Friday. But, you're more than welcome to invite him over here." Bruce offered. Clark stood awkwardly.

"He doesn't know you're my dad though. People get weird about it so I don't tell anyone. And I'm still Grayson, so no one puts it together." He said. He contemplated for a moment, "I might text him and see."

~*~

Bruce finally had a moment to breathe. The kids had all occupied themselves and he turned to Clark.

"Sorry you're here so late. Do you need a ride home?" Bruce asked. 

"I can call a cab." Clark smiled. Bruce's heart fluttered, "You live a busy life here."

"Yeah. It's worth it in the end." He smiled, "I love them to death."

"Where's Jason? I didn't see him." Clark asked.

"Moping upstairs probably. He's going through a phase, but it'll pass." Bruce shrugged. He flopped down on the couch in the library. The floor was covered in bits of Tim's electronics. Clark came and sat next to him. Bruce smiled and relished in the peace and quiet. 

"It's a lovely house." Clark told him, "When was it built?"

"1795. My dad redid some of it back in the 50s. I haven't had the heart to touch it, besides just modernizing some of the hardware." Bruce said. He liked the colonial house, it felt like home.

"It's pretty. I didn't think Wayne manor would be so bright." He said. Bruce noticed he had shifted closer. He wanted to be brave, he wanted to put an arm around his shoulders and pull him close. He wanted Clark to lean on him and fall asleep and stay the night here with him.

But he knew that was ridiculous. He had just met this man. He had already put so much trust into him, and he couldn't fuel the fire of greed he knew was somewhere hiding away. So instead they just sat in a comfortable silence. Bruce noticed a lot about Clark.

He had a burn scar on the back of his right hand. He had a large callus on the side of his middle finger, making it look a little distorted. Bruce guessed it was from a lot of writing. There was black ink peeking out from under the cuff of his shirt, a tattoo, but Bruce couldn't tell what it was. His cardigan looked hand-knit, he wondered who made it. He noticed a chain under his shirt collar, one of the ball-bearing chains that dog tags hang from. 

He wanted to reach over and pull the necklace out from under his shirt, but he thought it might be invasive to just start stroking his neck. So he did the next best thing, "Are you wearing a necklace?" 

"What? Oh, yeah." He pulled a medical tag out from under his shirt, "I'm deathly allergic to latex and kiwi."

"Kiwis?"

"Yeah. I guess it reacts the same as latex does. I don't really know. I just keep an EpiPen with me." He said with a shrug.

"Interesting." Bruce said.

"Can I ask you something that's probably too personal?" Clark turned to face him. Bruce shrugged, "What's up with Damian's mom?"

"What do you mean?" 

"I don't know. Who is she? What were the unsettling events? Were you around before she gave up Damian? Is she around now? It seems like a complicated relationship. I'm just curious is all." Clark said. He rested his elbow on the back of the couch to prop his head up. 

"Well, she's connected to a pretty important guy, and I don't want it leaked to the press, which is you. So I won't tell you who she is. I'm not entirely sure what happened, I don't actually remember the trip at all. But I remember being really sick and my blood work came back full of all kinds of stuff. So I can infer what happened." Bruce explained.

"What came back?"

"I'd rather not. I didn't know she was pregnant, so I wasn't there ever. She's given him up completely, apparently, she's getting married and needed the illusion of virginity or something. It's a big deal in Egypt." Bruce explained. He tried to gloss over the trickier parts of the relationship, he didn't like talking about it.

"That sucks. I'm sorry." Clark put a hand on his shoulder. 

"No one in this house has a good family history. But I do everything I can to make it a safe and happy place." Bruce said. He caught Clark's eye. Pretty baby blues. He really didn't mean to stare, but he felt lost in those big beautiful eyes, "Did we ever plan a date?" 

Clark shook his head, "When are you free?" 

"Dick has a boy coming over Friday, and he needs supervision. So Saturday? Classic dinner and a movie?" Bruce asked. 

"I'd like that." Clark said with a smile, "Dick is an adult, why does he need supervising?"

"I say this with more love in my heart than you can possibly imagine, but you've got to understand, Dick is kind of a slut." Bruce said with a sigh. Clark choked back a laugh, "I'm serious. He has so many flings I can't keep track. To his credit though he's loyal." 

"Is he having sex though?" 

"I don't know what else he could be doing at the movies for four hours with someone he goes out with that one time and then never speaks of again." Bruce sighed. Clark laughed. He had a contagious laugh, something that made Bruce's chest fill with joy. He couldn't stop smiling, "It's not funny." 

"It is though. You have a nice smile." Clark said. His laughs had died down and left a crooked grin on his face. 

"So do you." Bruce said quietly. He let himself get lost in his eyes, allowing his mind to wander off. He thought about how badly he wanted to reach out and touch his pretty face. He thought about how good it would feel to kiss him and pull him in close. He wanted to pull him into a hug and lay back and just fall asleep with him laying on his chest. 

He'd never felt this way before. He'd never wanted to kiss someone. He felt warm and full looking into those eyes, and he just had to wait until Saturday. 

The sound of footsteps woke him from his lovestruck trance, "Excuse me, Sir. Mr. Kent's cab has arrived." Alfred stood in the doorway. 

"Thank you, Alfred." Bruce said. He stood up from the couch and held a hand out to help Clark up. He was warm and his skin was soft. Clark smiled shyly and the three walked out to the front door. Clark waved goodbye before heading out to the cab. 

"May I offer my observations of Mr. Kent?" Alfred questioned. 

"Shoot." Bruce told him. 

"He appears to be more than a little fond of you. And you seem to be completely oblivious to that fact." Alfred said. Bruce looked at his butler.

"I may be fond of him too. Only time will tell." He responded. Alfred chuckled.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark has a crush. Damian wants a cat.

Clark was completely invested in Bruce. He had been for a while, but his interest in the man had only grown.

Two years ago, he'd reported on the annual Wayne Foundation banquet. He had never actually met Bruce, but he was infatuated with him. He found himself taking more pictures of Bruce than anything else at the event. He had an air of wealth and snobbery that Clark found both massively irritating, and incredibly alluring. He seemed an over human, completely untouchable, and totally self-absorbed. And Clark was in love. Or in lust. He never quite combed out the difference.

When the head of business news announced she needed reporters to interview Bruce Wayne, Clark knew he had to seize the opportunity. He was ready to knock out teeth to get close to him. He wrote his questions thoughtfully and spent hours selecting the most perfect outfit. Bruce was always so well dressed, simple, and classy, and timeless. Clark needed to make sure he was on par with Bruce. 

Once it came time for the interview, Clark's world had changed. Bruce had spun back and forth in his office chair without noticing. He spoke quietly, rarely making eye contact. He held himself well, his posture was intimidatingly perfect. He took time to think about questions before he answered, always making Clark wait a few moments. He stayed almost entirely emotionless but got a twinkle in his eye when he did something almost bad but skirted around the boundaries. It always felt like he was hiding something important. 

But he dropped everything for Dick. He didn't care where he was or who he was with. His kid was hurt and he had to go. He encouraged Tim's inventions and still pushed him harder. He exhausted himself to take care of his boys. But Clark had a terrible feeling about Damian's mom. 

He could feel nervous energy when Bruce talked about her. Something shifty and uncomfortable. Clark could feel tension and trauma and hatred in the relationship. Maybe it was better not to prod him. He'd lived a hard life, and he deserved peace and quiet. 

He heard a ding from his phone. An unknown number had texted him. 

_It's Bruce. What kind of food do you like?_

**Mexican, American, Greek. Not picky**

_I know a good Mediterranean place. Pick you up around 6?_

**Sounds good.**

He saved the contact in his phone and turned back to his work. Clark was writing up his article on Bruce, trying desperately not to make it personal. He can't mention how good he smelled, or how strong his hands were. 

Clark had broken up with Lois almost a year ago. She was moving away, headed to California, and they didn't want to force a long-distance relationship. But since then, Clark was in a bit of a dry spell. And as a result, he was easily excitable. And Bruce was quite the looker. 

**How's Dick?**

He was desperate for a conversation, he missed Bruce. He wanted to catch his attention. 

_We're taking him in right now actually. Alfred wants to make sure he doesn't have flail chest._

**Flail chest?**

_If you break multiple ribs in multiple places. Makes your lungs stop working right._

**Sounds bad**

_That's why we're taking him in. He's been having a hard time breathing. Which might just be his ribs are broken. I'll keep you updated._

Clark pushed up his glasses and turned back to the article. He wrote long paragraphs about his statements on his newest endeavors and the impact they were having, good and bad. He was a journalist. He had to at least give the illusion of an unbiased review. 

His phone rang. Maybe he should've gone into the office today. 

"Hey, Mom." He answered. 

"Hello. You never call anymore and I feel like I just don't know a single thing going on out there." She said. Clark smiled, he meant to call home more often than he did. 

"That's my bad. How's Dad?" He asked. 

"He's been hard at work. It's harvest season, so you know how busy he gets." She explained, "Tell me how work is going."

"It's going well. I'm writing an article about the Wayne Foundation right now actually." He said.

"Oh, that's so exciting. Did you get to meet anyone interesting?" She asked. Her little voice was full of Midwest charm. 

"I actually got an interview with Bruce Wayne. Did you know he's adopted three boys? He's got one of his own." Clark told her. She squealed.

"How old are they all?" She asked. 

"Not any little ones, his oldest is I think 18, and Damian is 10. The other two are somewhere between there." He said. 

"That's so sweet of him. Now, I'm your mother, so I have to ask, have you been on any dates recently?" She had been so upset when he broke it off with Lois she wanted grandchildren so bad. Clark wasn't sure how much to tell his mom right now. He wasn't sure he wanted her to know about Bruce, but he couldn't lie. 

"I've got a date planned for Saturday." He told her. He heard her coo through the phone. 

"Tell me all about her, what's her name, what's she like, is she cute, how did you meet?" She asked rapid-fire questions at him. Obviously excited about her son getting out into the world. 

"Well, she's a he. And he's nice. We met through work. He's pretty quiet, a little awkward, but it's charming. We're just kind of experimenting, seeing how things work." He told her. He didn't think Bruce would like getting his mom involved so early, it felt like a bad move. He heard his mom sigh, "What's wrong?" 

"I just want grandkids." She said. 

"Mom, it's our first date. And if it goes anywhere near kids, then we can still get a surrogate or adopt. We're not forbidden from having a family." He reminded her.

"I suppose that's true. When are you coming to visit?" She asked. 

"I could maybe come to visit for Thanksgiving. Next month?" He told her.

"Oh that will be nice. I'll let you get back to work. I'll tell your father you said hello. I love you." She said.

"I love you too, Mom." He hung up the phone and looked back at his work. 

~*~

Dick was getting X-rays and possibly a CT scan. Bruce waited for the radiologist to come back with results, which didn't take as long as he thought. He sent Clark a text, purely out of boredom with no ulterior motives whatsoever.

_Doctor checking him out._

**Any theories?**

_She's surprised he escaped without worse. Probably broken ribs and whiplash, maybe spinal fracture and concussion._

**Oh no. Is he ok?**

_Most likely. He's skirted most of the danger symptoms pretty closely. He's a tough kid_

**Hope he heals up soon.**

Bruce wanted to type out a response, but the doctor came back with Dick. She was holding several sheets of film and told him to lay down on the bed. She pinned up the film and sat with them. 

"Dick, you are the luckiest boy on the planet. You fell nearly 15 feet and you have escaped almost unscathed. You've broken three of your ribs, and you have stable T10 to 12 spinal fractures. The ribs I can't do anything about really, just rest and take ibuprofen. But, I will fit you for a back brace." She said.

"How long will that be?" Dick asked. 

"Ribs, four to six weeks. Your back, six to eight. And do not put any unnecessary stress on your back for those eight weeks at least. One week of rest. School if you can and stay home if you can't, that's it." She told him.

"So I can't get back for two months?" He asked. She shook her head, "But, I teach kids gymnastics."

"Not for the next week you don't. After that think about an assistant to help demonstrate." She sounded stern, "You have a very serious injury. Any worse and you could've been paralyzed."

Dick stayed quiet. 

"Now, you've also got whiplash and a concussion. Both are serious, but shouldn't leave you with any complications. Whiplash means you're going to be sore from the chest up, your arms are going to feel weak and maybe a little tingly, you could get some tinnitus, and most likely you'll be dizzy, and tired." She told him. Dick nodded.

"Can we do anything for the pain?" Bruce asked. The doctor shrugged. 

"Ibuprofen, Tylenol. This won't be great for the pain, but if you can just roll your head in a few circles every day, things will speed up a lot." She told him, "Don't push too hard, but it'll help. I'll give you guys a pamphlet on concussions, but I would highly recommend giving him a day or two away from school. Just rest." She told the pair. She handed him a little pamphlet 

As they drove home, Dick texted someone. Bruce knew he could only stop Dick from doing so much, so be just rolled his eyes and continued driving. 

"Who are you talking to?" He asked. 

"That boy. I was going to invite him over on Friday. Is that okay?" Dick asked. 

"Think you'll be okay to have a friend over by then?" Bruce asked. Dick nodded, "then sure. I'll call the school and let them know you'll be back Monday." 

Bruce drove home and helped his son up to his room. He helped prop up the pillows just right and made sure he was comfortable. He brought him ibuprofen and his water bottle and closed the door to let him rest. He went downstairs to update Alfred on Dick's treatment and to make a gameplan for getting the other three children to school and back home. Damian stopped him on his way to the kitchen. He'd missed the bus this morning, used to having someone take him to school, and Bruce didn't have time to make him late. 

"Dad, for my birthday can I have a cat? Or a lizard? Or a rat?" Damian asked. Bruce smiled. 

"You'll have to take care of a cat, or lizard, or rat. It'll be your responsibility." He told him. Damian nodded. 

"I have a kind of lizard picked out, and I read a lot of books about cats and rats." He promised.

"What kind of lizard would you like?" Bruce asked.

"A bearded dragon. They need at least a 40-gallon aquarium, and they need UVB lights to prevent metabolic bone disease, they can eat a lot of different kinds of worms and stuff, and you can give them fruits as treats." Damian said, "But if we get a cat, I wanna adopt it. Because shelters have too many cats, and sometimes they have to kill the cats. And they can't take any more stray cats, so they're killing all the birds. And I don't want the cats or birds to die."

"Let me think about it. Do you know where Alfred is?" Bruce asked. Damian pointed to the kitchen. He continued on his journey to Alfred, who he found making lunch.

"Master Bruce, have you heard Master Damian's requests for a pet?" Alfred asked. Bruce nodded, "I was thinking it would be a good idea to have a cat around. Would it be out of line to take him to the shelter as a birthday present?" 

"No, of course not. Maybe it'll teach him empathy." Bruce stretched, "Dick is going to be on bed rest for the next few days. After that, he needs a brace to walk around. Nothing more than walking around the house or school for about a week. Then he's just got to heal up."

Alfred discussed getting kids to school. Bruce could bring kids to school, as long as Alfred could pick them up. Of course, the bus would work in a pinch, and Dick really shouldn't be along for very long if it could be helped. Damian came down and knocked at the kitchen door. Bruce invited him in and helped him up onto the counter.

"Dick is asleep. Is he allowed to do that?" Damian asked.

"Yes, he should sleep. It helps him heal." Bruce said. Damian furrowed his brows. 

"But I thought you shouldn't sleep with a concussion." He said. 

"Dick is holding a conversation, he's thinking mostly coherently, he's functioning pretty well. Which means he can sleep." Bruce explained. Damian nodded.

"Can I be vegetarian?" He asked. 

"Why?" Bruce questioned.

"Mom said that I'm only supposed to eat animals that are killed the right way. She said that the way western people do it is cruel. But my way seems cruel too. And I don't think there's a nice way to kill animals, and I don't want to hurt them." Damian shook his head.

"Okay, if you can find good recipes for us to make, then you can be vegetarian." Bruce told him. Damian thanked him and hopped off the counter.

"He's an odd one." Alfred said after he left the room. 

"Like father like son I suppose." Bruce sighed deeply, "He got in trouble for hitting a classmate a couple of weeks ago. And he bit a kid last year. And in preschool, he gave a kid a black eye. But then he cried when Jason killed a spider."

"He's had a confusing life for such a young man. I doubt he truly understands what's going on. Perhaps and outlet of sorts will set him right." Alfred said, "Therapy, martial arts, knitting."

"Perhaps." Bruce muttered under his breath. 

He went up to his study and tapped away at his computer. He looked up karate dojos that would take on Damian, he scrolled through hundreds of listings until he landed on one. It was run by Miss Kokoro Honda, who looked like a pleasant woman, older than Bruce, but still middle-aged. She taught classes for all ages and held a third-degree blackbelt. Bruce called and asked for a trial class. He researched therapists too but felt that needed some more time and patience than signing up for a karate class. He called for Damian. 

"I signed you up for a trial karate lesson." He told his son, "It's just one trial run, for now, so keep an open mind, and if you hate it then we'll do something else."

"Alright. Why karate?" He tilted his head. 

"I think you've got a lot of feelings happening in that little head of yours," he tapped Damian's forehead, "I don't know what's going on, but I think it'll help to get some of those feelings out of your head and into the world." 

"So, karate?" He asked. 

"So karate." Bruce answered with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone want a spinoff with Dick? I love Dick Grayson with all my heart. I promise. I broke him a little. But I love him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick has a date. Damian has a confession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my self indulgent Dick Grayson chapter. Because it's what I deserve.

Dick was bored. His body ached, he didn't want to get out of bed. But he was so bored. He sat up, put on his brace, and walked downstairs to wait for Wally. 

Dad had worked from home since his accident to keep an eye on him, which Dick appreciated, but it meant much less privacy for him and the cute boy. He was going to have to leave to pick up the other boys from school soon, so that would be a few minutes.

"What are you doing up?" Bruce asked. Dick winced as he sat down on the couch. 

"I got bored. Needed a change of scenery." He told him. Alfred had checked on him earlier, his back was a nasty splatter of blue, and purple, and red. Long stretches of thick, white skin where his bones sat underneath. 

"You're not pushing too hard are you?" Bruce asked, "And you've been doing your neck exercises?" 

"Best I can. Still painful." He said. He felt restless, but he hoped Wally would help a little, "When are you leaving?"

"15 minutes or so. Alfred should be back with Jason soon. When is your friend coming?" He asked. 

"Any minute." Dick said, attempting to roll his neck as his doctor told him. He heard a knock at the door and jerked to sit up. His body erupted with fresh pain and he bit back a scream. Bruce stood up and went to answer it. Dick slowly eased up and went to follow along. Before he turned the corner, he heard a very scared sounding Wally asking for Dick Grayson. The ginger's face melted into relief when he saw Dick peek out from behind his dad. 

"Hey, I was thinking I had the wrong house." He squirmed nervously. Bruce stood between the two boys. Dick pushed past him and invited Wally inside.

"Dick, you're still on bed rest. Why don't you take your friend up to your room?" Bruce suggested. Dick thought he was going to reach out and squeeze down on his shoulders, but nothing happened. Bruce just looked a little worried.

"Are you telling your son to take a cute boy up to his room?" He asked with a grin. He loved a good loophole. 

"Yes I am. Because I just watched you almost scream in pain trying to get off the couch. So I wish you luck getting into trouble." Bruce said. Dick sighed in defeat, he was right. His chest hurt, but he still managed to get Wally up the stairs and into bed with him.

"How are you feeling?" Wally asked, kicking off his shoes. 

"A lot of pain still. But my accident was four days ago, so that makes sense." Dick said. He could take off his brace, but that would mean taking off his shirt, which meant showing off the horrible bruising all over his back. So he kept the brace on. Wally crawled up next to him. 

"Yeah, probably. You didn't tell me your dad was Bruce Wayne." Wally seemed a little starstruck, "Why do you use Grayson?"

"Because I'm adopted silly goose." Dick said with a small smile, "Dad wanted me to keep my roots strong. And I didn't want to lose it, so I just kept Grayson."

Wally stared for a moment, "Are you like, the Dick Grayson? You know, the one?" 

"The one and only Dick Grayson of the Flying Graysons." He gestured his arms out as big and grand as he could. 

"I guess I never connected the dots. I'm sorry about what happened." Wally scratched the back of his head. Dick smiled. 

"It was 10 years ago, I'll be fine. Now come lay down with me." Dick told him. He adjusted his positioned and winced. Wally rushed over to him and lightly rested a hand on his shoulder, "What? Gonna kiss it better for me?" 

"Oh haha, smartass." Wally rolled his eyes and leaned back on the pillows.

"Come on, you know you want to." Dick said with a cheeky grin. Wally laughed.

"Buy a girl a drink first." Wally winked, "Can I ask you something?" 

"Sure?" Dick turned his head as best he could to face him better. 

"Do you miss the circus?" He asked. Dick nodded.

"I feel very restless a lot of the time. I feel like I need to move and go and be out in the world. But aerial sports help a little, bring in some of that adrenaline. I try to stay busy." He said. He was a born performer. He wanted to be seen and heard. He wanted people to gawk in awe at his skill and grace. He needed it like oxygen, and he would force himself to be better until he would get the attention he so desperately craved.

"What all do you do?" Wally asked.

"Gymnastics, aerial silks, aerial hoops, Russian bar, and I've dabbled in corde lisse." Dick answered. He wanted to try pole dancing, just to see if he could. 

"So how did you end up getting hurt?" 

"I was practicing silks. I've been playing with an idea for a new routine. I was in double footlocks, which is when you tie the silk around your feet so you can stand up in the air. To get out of them you drop back like you're sitting down and you kick the silk off your feet. I kicked too hard and lost my grip." Dick explained. He felt stupid, but he knew the risks of being up so high in the air.

"Oh shit." Wally said. His eloquence was astounding. 

"Do you want to hear something you can't tell anyone else?" Dick asked. Wally nodded, "I think my dad is seeing this really hot guy. He came and picked me up after my accident."

"Oh. What do you think about it? Bruce hasn't ever dated anyone has he?" Wally asked. Dick shook his head. 

"I think it's good for him. He gets in a really weird headspace sometimes where he stops talking to us and he kind of just works. But this new guy seems like he'd get him out of that." Dick said, "What are you into?"

"What do you mean?" Wally laughed and looked at Dick. He hadn't stopped wiggling his toes since he came in. 

"I mean, what's your type? Ideal girl? Ideal boy? Both, neither? What's your type." Dick asked with a small smirk. Wally hummed quietly.

"I love girls with dark hair, and I like being taller, it's cute. Above all else I just want her to be smarter than me." Wally explained. 

"What about boys though?" Dick asked. He wanted to move in closer, but his broken body meant that it would take a lot of effort. 

"What about boys?" Wally said with a mischievous smile. He took the liberty of leaning closer to Dick instead. Dick couldn't reach up to his face, so instead, he put a hand on his thigh. Their faces were inches apart. Wally whispered, "Maybe I like stupid acrobatic boys with dark hair and pretty blue eyes."

"Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?" Dick grinned. He wanted so badly to close the gap himself, but he was struggling to tilt his head back. 

Wally leaned down to kiss him, twisting his body so he was half laying on Dick. Dick gripped his thighs tightly as they kissed. Wally slowly rocked against Dick, Dick let his hands slowly trail up.

Someone knocked at the door and Dick pushed Wally off of him before it opened. Damian stood with a tray of food. 

"Dad wanted me to bring you dinner. He assumed Wally didn't have any problems with food but he's happy to make something if need be." Damian handed them the food. His dead eyes stared straight into Dick. The kid really got under his skin sometimes. 

"Tell Dad thanks." Dick told him.

"Alfred gave me painkillers for you too." Damian handed the pair the tray and waited for Dick to swallow the pills before leaving. 

~*~

Bruce was going a little crazy. He wanted to go check on Dick. He wanted to make sure everything was alright. But he stayed downstairs and ate dinner with his three other boys.

Jason was eating normally again, Tim ate three times as much as he should have been able to, and Damian seemed more content with his vegetarian meals. Alfred ate with the family at the opposite end of the table. Part of Bruce wanted to invite Clark over for dinner. But he was seeing him tomorrow. He could wait. 

"Hey dad, who was that guy that came over?" Tim asked.

"His name is Clark, he's a friend of mine." Bruce told his boys. 

"A friend with bedroom eyes like that?" Jason raised an eyebrow. His right eyebrow looked shorter than the left, but Bruce knew it was just vitiligo turning his hair white.

"Dad, are you gay?" Damian asked. Bruce didn't know how to answer. He didn't really have an answer yet, "Is that why Mom doesn't like you?" 

"Your mom doesn't like me for a lot of reasons. What are your thoughts on being gay Damian?" Bruce asked. He was interested to see what he thought. Egypt couldn't be the most tolerant place on earth.

"On you being gay or just like, gayness?" Damian squinted at his food, "You still haven't answered my question."

"Because I'm not sure I have an answer yet." Bruce explained, "It's a hard thing."

"Yeah. I know." Damian nodded. Bruce blinked.

"How do you know? You can't be gay yet." Tim said. 

"A person is gay their whole life, Tim. They might not figure it out until later, but that doesn't mean they weren't gay as a kid." Bruce reminded him. Tim apologized to his brother and the table went silent. Bruce rolled the question around in his mind. Was he gay? Was he bi? He couldn't really remember ever having a real crush on anyone before. Maybe Silena when they were kids, but he never got close enough to anyone outside his family. 

Damian set his fork down and took a deep breath, "I think I'm gay and there's a really cute boy in my class and I really wanna invite him to my birthday."

Bruce couldn't stop the grin spreading across his face. His son was absolutely precious, "What's his name?"

"Henry." Damian said. Bruce smiled. 

"You can invite Henry to your birthday party." He told him. Damian smiled and continued eating. 

~*~

Bruce was getting ready to go to bed. He heard a quiet knock on the door, Alfred entered with a mug of tea. He quietly handed him the cup and sat on the foot of his king-sized bed. Bruce sipped his tea and waited for him to say something.

"How are you?" Alfred asked. Bruce shrugged, "Without the children hearing, is Clark really just a friend?"

"We have a date tomorrow." Bruce explained.

"It seems like you've thought a lot about Damian's question. Care to discuss?" Alfred asked. Bruce shrugged again. 

"I don't know. I think I really like him, but I don't know if I've ever had a crush before. Like there were girls I thought were pretty in school, but I don't think I ever wanted any part of dating them. And I can't figure out why Clark is different." Bruce said. Alfred nodded, "Part of me wants to just say fuck it and scream I'm gay from the rooftops. But it doesn't sit right with me, I don't know."

"Dick seems well versed in this. You could ask him." Alfred said. 

"I'm not going to ask my son if he thinks I'm gay." Bruce said. Alred chuckled, "I feel very frustrated."

"Take it one step at a time. Go out tomorrow, see how you feel. But I must leave, as it seems you have a guest." Alfred stood and swung open the door. Damian stood in his pajamas, cherry red. He had his cow plushie with him, "Hello Master Damian. Would you like a cup of tea before bed?"

"Yes please." Damian nodded and let Alfred pass by. He stepped quietly into the room, "Dad, does mom hate me?" 

"What? No. Why would she hate you?" Bruce asked. He gestured Damian come over. He climbed up onto the big bed and sat across from his dad. 

"She found out I thought I maybe liked boys and she said I was lucky I was too young to go to jail and I better get it out of my system quick before I got too old to turn straight." Damian curled up in a ball around his cow. 

"Mom's just confused. There's nothing wrong with you liking boys. I'm really proud of you for telling me." Bruce pulled him into a hug. Damian took after Bruce, which meant talking was hard. He pressed a kiss to Damian's head.

"Do you think other kids will make fun of me?" He asked. 

"I don't know. A lot of kids don't know any better, but they'll grow out of it. And you've got a lot of people on your side." Bruce told him. 

"Can I stay with you tonight?" Damian asked. 

"Of course you can. Do you want to watch some Avatar before bed?" He asked. Damian nodded, "Azula just infiltrated Ba Sing Se right?"

Alfred came back up and handed the boy his tea in a cow mug. Bruce sat with his son and watched cartoons as they sipped their tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was trying to think back to being 10 and what I was doing and watching and stuff. But I have ptsd and memory repression specifically targeted at being 9-10. So I got no fucking clue what happens when you're 10, so Damian might not be a very accurate 10 year old boy.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce has a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Breif drug mention

Bruce knocked on the apartment door. He'd sat with Dick all day trying to figure out how to be a good date. They weren't going to a very nice restaurant, but he knew the owner. A wonderful Greek woman named Sophie. He called and told her about the date and she promised to say hello. 

"Hi." Clark said when he opened the door. He was wearing a tan cable knit sweater and black pants. He pushed his glasses up his nose, "You look nice."

"Thanks." Dick helped pick out his outfit, and he felt a little like a greaser. White shirt, black pants, leather jacket, and boots. Dick had insisted he 'French tuck' his shirt, and Bruce felt a little silly about it, but he complied. He ushered Clark gently out the door and downstairs, "This restaurant is a bit of a hole in the wall, but it's good. I met the owner doing some work with immigration a while back. She's Greek, and she's a terrible gossip."

"That sounds absolutely perfect. I was really scared you were going to take me to some stuffy fancy place that served food with gold and stuff." Clark said with a small smile.

"I wouldn't put you through that. I save that for upstaging other rich old white men." Bruce said. He learned early on that the easiest way to get business done was to intimidate your opponents, kill them with kindness.

"Are you not intimidating enough?" Clark asked.

"No idea. But it helps to take them to a prestigious French restaurant that I own and speak exclusively French to the head chef. Because I can just ask for him." Bruce explained. He opened the car door for Clark, he wasn't totally sure why, but it felt right. He climbed in the driver's seat. 

"You speak French?" Clark asked, almost whispering.

"And Spanish, Russian, Arabic, Hebrew, German, Latin, Greek, Italian, Polish, Turkish, Japanese, Mandarin. And I know a smattering of Korean, Filipino, Vietnamese, and Swahili." Bruce listed off. 

"Holy hell. Why on God's earth would you need to know that many?" Clark muttered to himself. His eyes were wide.

"Spanish and Italian are pretty widely spoken in Gotham. Dick's first language is Russian. Damian grew up in Egypt. Dad spoke German, Mom was Polish-Jewish. The rest came from traveling or working internationally." Bruce said with a shrug. Clark blinked.

"Dick is Russian?" He asked. Bruce nodded. 

"John and Mary Grayson came to America when Dick was two as Igor and Masha Granovsky with their son Sasha. Of course, that was much too foreign for showbusiness." Bruce explained, "If he gets tired enough he'll slip into an accent and for school, he takes notes in both Russian and English."

"You live a fascinating life." Clark looked at him. They pulled up to the little building, tucked away between a clothing store and handmade soap shop. Bruce offered a hand to help guide him inside.

He remembered a time when his father helped to fix his hair in the bathroom before attending an event. He remembered his dad reminding him of all the proper ways to host guests. He was a Wayne after all, proper hospitality was incredibly important.

He asked the hostess for Sophie when they arrived at the table. She smiled and went to retrieve her. When Sophie came out she held her arms out. Bruce smiled and stood for a hug. She asked about the boys, she told him very sternly to treat the bruising with olive oil. She updated him on her life, her neighbor had a new boyfriend who she couldn't stand, her cousin just had a new baby, but Sophie hated the baby daddy, her mother had osteoporosis and was going into physical therapy. Bruce glanced over to Clark when he realized he'd been speaking exclusively in Greek. 

"Sophie, this is Clark." He gestured over to him, switching back to English.

"Oh is he the boy? He is very handsome. I am the owner here, Bruce helped me to start, he is a very good man. He will be good to you. Do you grow up here in Gotham?" She asked.

"I'm from Kansas." He answered.

"Oh yes, Arkansas. Is there tornados there?" She asked. Bruce didn't have the heart to correct her right now. 

"Yeah, a lot. We had a good tornado shelter under the farmhouse though, so we were always okay." Clark said.

"That is very good. Now you sit with Bruce and discuss Arkansas." She pushed Bruce down into the chair, "Would you like wine? Pick some food and I will give you wine."

She hurried off to give them bread.

"She seems nice." Clark said. 

"She's a sweetheart." Bruce smiled. She came back and gave them a plate of sliced bread with a small bowl full of olive oil. She handed them each a plate of Greek salad before scurrying off. 

"Is the salad just free?" Clark asked. 

"I don't think so, but it's one of my favorite menu items and Sophie knows me very well." Bruce explained, "She gets excited sometimes."

Clark took a bite, "Oh my God."

"I know, it's so good. I know it's just a plate of vegetables, but I would eat a gallon of it." Bruce said, "How did you get into Greek food? Kansas doesn't seem the type to have the most diverse cooking."

"My friend Diana is Greek. She kept getting upset that I was eating junk food, and she swears up and down that Mediterranean is the healthiest option." Clark told him.

"She's right. Fresh vegetables, yogurt, light on carbs. Pretty good for you." Bruce nodded. Clark's shoulders seemed tense, "What's up?" 

"What do you mean?" Clark tilted his head. 

"You look like something is bothering you." Bruce said. Clark sighed and shrugged, "Come talk to me about it."

"It's nothing. I just don't really know how to act around you, you're in like a whole other world that's so far above me. I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing and I suppose I'm just a little bit uncomfortable." Clark explained. Bruce was a little surprised. His kids never talked to him about anything, they were all so closed off. Except for Dick, he would talk for hours if you let him. 

"I thought you were using me for my money, but I really like you. I thought you were cute and sweet and just overall a good guy. Of the two, I'm glad you're not just out looking for a sugar daddy." Bruce responded. Clark laughed, "What?" 

"My mom would love you. If you ever meet her I can guarantee your whole family would be getting Christmas sweaters for years." Clark smiled. He looked so pretty when he smiled. Perfect straight white teeth, squared-off jaw, the bluest eyes he'd ever seen, "You're staring at me."

"You look, good, you're nice to look at." Bruce stumbled over his words, "I'm sorry, I've never really dated before."

"Really? It seems like you would have." Clark furrowed his brows. Bruce shook his head. 

"Silena had a crush on me in middle school, she kissed me once in eighth grade. I got bullied a lot in high school and sorta stopped talking to people. College, I went a little crazy. I traveled everywhere, slept with too many people, but never dated. I just sort of got too high or drank too much and went home with the first person that would take me. Then I took over the company, and had four kids." Bruce said. He remembered the headlines when he got caught in Tokyo loaded up on MDMA in bed with two other people. He hoped the world had moved on from that, and he hoped Jason would never hear of it.

"I have vague memories of rumors I heard about you in France I think? You hired a prostitute or something?" Clark asked. Bruce's heart sank.

"I forgot about Paris. To be fair, I did not hire a prostitute. I was at a strip club and smoked a lot of weed with one of the dancers. I don't know if that's better. I was 19." Bruce explained, "If it makes you feel any better, I've had a 20-year dry spell if you don't count Cairo."

"Why didn't you date anybody? Weren't you lonely?" Clark asked.

"I don't know. I just had no interest really. Never really had romantic feelings for anyone." Bruce shrugged. 

"Are you aromantic? Do you feel romantic feelings ever?" Clark asked he seemed genuinely curious.

"I do in theory. I have an image in my head of having a partner and doing romantic coupley things with them. That image just doesn't have a name or a face really." Bruce explained.

"Do you have romantic feelings towards me?" 

"I'm not sure. I think so. But that's why I'm here. I want to find out." Bruce explained. He hadn't ever heard aromantic before, but he liked the way it felt, "Is there a word for aromantic, but conditionally? Like I have to be close to someone before I feel romantic?"

"Demiromantic. Or gray romantic" Clark answered. Bruce nodded, "Do you like those words?"

"I'll get back to you on that. Maybe." Bruce nodded, "Carry on as usual though. I like this energy." 

~*~

They had a glass of wine each with dinner. Bruce let Clark pick the movie they saw. But neither had much of a say, so he bought tickets for whatever was showing next. Which happened to be a terrible rom-com that neither paid any attention to. 

Instead Bruce spent most of the movie trying to find ways to scoot closer to him. He was looking for an excuse to wrap an arm around him and get him to come lay on his shoulder. His fingers itched to reach out and take his hand. It really wasn't that far away, he could just reach out and take his hand and kiss his strong fingers, calloused from his writing. 

Clark shifted in his chair and his knee knocked up against Bruce's. Every nerve burned with the excitement of touch. He looked over at Clark, who looked bored out of his mind. Bruce reached out and gently tapped on the back of Clark's hand. A quick message to him, just to let him know how cute he was. Part of him prayed that Clark didn't know Morse code, the other part desperately wanted him to know exactly what he said. 

Clark laced his fingers with Bruce's and smiled. Bruce' s heart pounded with a fury he barely knew. He took deep breathes, trying desperately to keep it slow and even. Once his heart had slowed down, he rested his head on Clark's shoulder. Clark ran his thumb over his hand gently, softly stroking his skin. 

~*~

Bruce finally pulled up to Clark's apartment building. They sat in silence. Bruce wanted to grab his shirt and pull him hard into a kiss, but he refrained. 

"Do you want me to walk you up to your room?" Bruce asked. Clark smiled. 

"I would love that." He answered. Bruce buried over to help him out of the car. But he couldn't hurt too fast, because then he would seem overeager. Dick said that's never a good look. He held Clark's hand as they walked up the steps.

"I had a really good time." Clark told him. He seemed to be always smiling about something. Always good to find in the world. 

"I did too. We should do it again sometime, maybe." Bruce said. They stood at his front door. 

"I think so too. Next week sometime? I'll text you." Clark shrugged. And another wave of silence washed over them. Clark opened his mouth to say something when a surge of confidence built up in Bruce's chest.

He reached out and pulled Clark in for a kiss. Small and quick, not a special kiss, but exactly what Bruce wanted. Clark blinked and leaned in for another kiss. This one longer, more intense. They moved with a passion Bruce hadn't ever experienced. Bruce's hands wrapped around his neck while Clark let his arms fall around Bruce's waist. They parted slowly, letting themselves peel apart. 

"I'll see you soon." Clark said. Bruce nodded. He watched the bigger man enter his little apartment before he left for his car. He hadn't even turned the car on when he let his face fall into the steering wheel. His face beamed with joy. He couldn't wait to kiss him again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian takes karate.

It was Dick's first day back at school since the accident. Bruce had let them know about the accident and they seemed very understanding over the phone. His concussion should be on the way out, but Dick couldn't really report feeling better, so Bruce hoped it was still just whiplash. He had decided to bring Jason to his gymnastic lessons as a guide. Jason wasn't nearly as capable as Dick, but he could get the job done. Bruce was just thankful it would give him time out of the house. 

Damian had his first karate lesson today after school, so Bruce would need to leave work early. Bruce ran through his schedule for the day as he got dressed for the day. A knock came from his bedroom door before Alfred stepped inside. 

"Good morning, Master Bruce." He gave a small bow, "My apologies for intruding, but I have received the dates for the performances."

"For your play?" Bruce asked, continuing to button up his shirt.

"Yes. The first show will be next Friday. Just after Damian's birthday." Alfred explained, "I've forwarded you the email I was sent. I'm unsure it would be a particularly appropriate show for the young ones, so you may perhaps consider a babysitter for the night."

"Thank you, Alfred. I'll be sure to make some calls." Bruce said with a smile. Alfred seemed much happier after starting his acting classes, and it lifted some of the guilt Bruce felt. But a babysitter. He'd never really needed a babysitter before. He always had Alfred, or an older kid to help out. Tim could probably handle himself alright, but Damian had a knack for rubbing people the wrong way, and it might be a good idea to have a mediator close by.

His first thought was Silena, but he didn't trust her alone with the little ones. He would come home to see the manor destroyed, he could feel it. And as much as he loved the penthouse, he really didn't want to stay there long term again. Sophie was good with the kids, but Friday nights were busy for her. Barbara had a hard time in the manor with her chair since Bruce had yet to renovate. The only other person he could think of was Clark. 

They had really only just met, but Bruce thought he was nice. He had the potential to be good with the kids. Damian didn't despise him yet, which was a plus. But he couldn't ask the guy he had been seeing to watch his kids right? They were pretty easy since they barely needed a babysitter anymore. A text wouldn't hurt, right? And maybe he could also take him out to another performance. 

_When are you free next weekend?_

**All of it right now. Why?**

_Alfred is in a production of That Championship Season that Friday. We can't take the little ones and they need supervision. We can spend all of that Saturday together too if you want._

He told himself he wanted to return the favor, but he knew he just missed kissing Clark. Part of him hoped Clark would want to spend Saturday at home watching bad TV.

**Hmmmmm...**

**Babysitting for a sexy billionaire offering a whole day to ourselves. It sounds like a weird spinoff 50 Shades of Grey. What time?**

_Be here around 7? What's 50 shades of grey_

**Movie. Wanna stay in my microscopic apartment Saturday and find out more?**

_Sure?_

He couldn't tell if Clark was teasing or flirting. Bruce had so many ways to find out what this mysterious book was, but he kind of wanted to keep it a surprise.

**No judging my tiny house allowed. Is Saturday my only payment?**

_Do you want more?_

**Idk. I won't ask you for money, but I won't turn it down.**

_Fair enough. Thanks. I'll see you then._

~*~

Silena had insisted on going out to lunch and getting caught up on the date. 

"So what did you do?" She asked. 

"We ate at Sophie's, and we saw a bad movie." Bruce said. Silena groaned.

"You're so boring. I want more detail. Did you hug, did you kiss, did you fuck, who topped? You're terrible at this." She said. 

"I kissed him. Right before he left." Bruce said. Silena gasped. 

"You initiated something? I'm so proud of little Brucie. Was it good? Did he kiss you back? Was there tongue?" She grinned widely.

"You're gross. But it was a good kiss." Bruce shrugged. He stirred his drink with his straw. 

He thought about how pretty and bright his blue eyes had looked. His lips were so incredibly soft, moving up against his. His cheeks had been rough and delightfully scratchy against his face. His hands were placed so firmly on Bruce's hips, and he was an inch taller, but he lacked any. Authority in his action. Clark had been completely pliable, moldable to whatever Bruce wanted in that moment. He gave to every push, followed every pull. Bruce wanted to see just how far he could take that gentle spirit.

"You're thinking about him." She smirked. Bruce shrugged, "When do you see him again."

"Next weekend." Bruce said. He felt a pang in his heart, "We're watching 50 Shades of Grey. He was surprised I'd never heard of it before." 

"Oh." Her eyes widened and melted into a mischievous smile, "Good luck, Brucie."

"Why?"

"You'll see." She giggled, "Do you miss him?"

"Yeah. I think so. I just saw him. But he feels far." Bruce said.

"Aw. You're so cute." Silena smiled, "Why don't you see him this week?" 

"Does that seem overeager?" Bruce asked. Silena laughed. 

"No, I think you're fine." She smiled, "How's Dick?" 

Bruce told her about his progress, while they ate. His mind kept drifting off to the sweet little country boy with curly hair. His heart fluttered as he thought about waking up to pancakes and sleeping in on Sundays with his arms around Clark. He thought about meeting his mom and learning how to bake a perfect apple pie. He thought about how nice it'll feel to run his hands through Clark's hair and kiss him all over.

He drove back to the office with Silena, and a very different part of his head lit up with fantasies about Clark. How badly he wanted to bite at his jawline. How fun it would be to tear open Clark's shirt and watch the buttons pop off. He imagined Clark straddling his hips, and suddenly those same morning kisses sweet with maple syrup turned hot and heavy with need. 

"Bruce." Silena snapped him back to reality. 

"What's up?" 

"You weren't paying attention at all." She pouted, "Call Clark to see him again."

He rolled his eyes and pulled into the parking lot. He followed her up to his office and made sure she was ready to get back to work. Bruce entered his office and immediately started to text Clark.

_I'm lonely. Want to go to the park tomorrow night?_

**I would love to. Pick me up @6?**

_Perfect_

~*~

Damian sat quietly in the backseat. He had his backpack sitting on the floor of the car. Bruce really hoped he liked it. Damian could just wear gym clothes for his trial run so they didn't need to invest in a gi yet. 

"How was school today?" Bruce asked. 

"Was okay." Damian said quietly.

"What did you do today?" 

"An erosion experiment." He said. He seemed upset.

"Everything okay?" Bruce asked as he drove. Damian shrugged, "Will you tell me on the way home if I let you sit in the front?"

"I guess." Damian gazed out the window. 

Bruce drove the rest of the way there in silence. He really hoped this class would be good for him. Miss Honda stood at the front of the class, just beginning to warm up. When they entered the door her face lit up. 

"We have a shadow today." She exclaimed and gestured to Damian, "Come in, come in. We are stretching ourselves. Father can stay, or come back at the end."

She ushered Damian along, his boy gave a pleading look. So Bruce stayed. She pointed to a spot on the floor for Damian to stand and hurried back to the front of the room. She started them on jumping jacks, which Damian kept up surprisingly well. They ran in slow circles around the gym, Damian a bit slower than the rest. And finally, Miss Honda lead the group in a sun salutation, telling them to breathe in good calm white, and breathe out the bad nervous black inside of themselves as they stretched. On occasion, she asked a child what their black was that they were releasing today. Their answers were childish, but not unreasonable. A bad grade on a math test, someone said something mean to them, their sports team lost.

"Does our little shadow have any black to release today?" Miss Honda asked. 

"Someone found out about my crush today." Damian said with a straight face. Bruce's heart sank to his stomach. That must've been why he was quiet. Someone figured out he was gay. 

"Oh yes, it is stressful to let yourself be open to others. Breathe in the nice white love in the air and let it fill you up." She said. 

~*~

"Ready to talk about what happened today?" Bruce asked. Damian shrugged. 

"Jordan was trying to get all the boys at our table to tell him what girls they liked and I told him I didn't like anyone. And he said that I had to like someone and I told him he was being stupid. And we were working on our journals and he took mine and read through it. And I wrote about Henry in it and he kept making fun of me and all his friends were making fun of me for liking boys." Damian said. He looked close to tears. 

"Do you want me to talk to the teacher?" He asked. Damian shook his head. 

"Then they'll all call me sissy." He crossed his arms and slumped back in his chair. 

"Okay, I won't." He had every intention to talk to his teacher and let her know what was going on, "Did Henry hear about it?"

Damian shrugged, "I hope not."

Bruce felt bad for the boy. He had a lot going on in his life. He needed some support, "You want to know something, Damian?" 

"What?" He looked up. 

"Clark and I are going out on our second date tomorrow." Bruce told him, "But you have to promise not to tell the other boys because it's a secret."

Dick knew, and Alfred knew, but he'd rather tell the other three on his own. He saw a smile creep up on Damian's face.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian throws a party.

Damian was nervous about school today. Alfred was still driving him while Dick recovered. His heart raced and his face burned red hot. Alfred hugged him before sending him in.

Written on the board, it said new seating chart. The desks had all been moved around and the students were supposed to find their new name tag. Damian wandered around the room and finally found his cluster of desks. His heart sank when he saw Henry's name tag on the desk beside him. 

He plopped down in his seat and stared at his desk. He felt someone tap lightly on his shoulder. He looked up and saw Henry, with his big brown eyes, looked back at him. 

"Hi, I heard about what happened yesterday. I wanted to say sorry." He sat next to Damian.

"Dad said they don't know better yet, but I'm not supposed to be mean to them." Damian explained. Hitting and kicking were only for karate class now, "I'm probably just weird anyway."

"I don't think you're weird. I think you're cool and you can draw pretty good." Henry said with a big beaming smile. Damian blinking in surprise and Henry laughed, "I like girls, but do you wanna be friends instead?" 

"Okay. You don't think I shouldn't like boys?"

"I have two dads. Why would I think that?" Henry said with a smile. Damian shrugged.

"Do you want to come to my birthday party?" Damian asked. Henry nodded. 

~*~

Damian was really hoping people didn't show up with presents. He made sure Alfred put it on the invitations, and he didn't want people to feel obligated. He went to a normal public school, a very nice public school, but he didn't want people to be weird about his dad having a lot of money. He asked his dad not to have the party at the penthouse like normal since a lot of kids got weird about it. 

"Master Damian." Alfred knocked quietly on his open door, "I have a surprise for your birthday if you would like to go before the party."

"Where are we going?" Damian asked. He put down his book and sat up. 

"Well, if I told you, it would make a remarkably terrible surprise. Don't you think?" Alfred said with a smile. They got in the car and drove out to the city. Damian watched carefully out the window to try and figure out where they were going.

They pulled up to a big concrete building with lots of windows. Alfred let him out of the car and brought him inside. A nice looking girl with short hair and big round glasses smiled and welcomed the pair inside. Damian looked around at the pamphlets for ringworm treatments and caring for elderly dogs. His heart raced with excitement.

"Good afternoon. Damian here was in the business of adopting his first cat." Alfred stepped back to let Damian take the lead of the transaction.

"Oh yes of course. What's the occasion?" She asked.

"It's my birthday today." Damian blushed, "And I asked if I could get a cat."

"What kind of cat would you like to get?" 

"Uhm, a kitten I think. I don't wanna wild kitten though, someone that likes to play, but still likes to snuggle and stuff." Damian said. The girl at the desk nodded.

"Preferably one who is good with litter." Alfred interjected. 

"Do you have any brothers or sisters at all? Or other pets at home?" She asked. 

"Three older brothers, and Dad, and Alfred. We don't have any pets though." Damian explained. She smiled and took the pair back into a room filled with cat cages. They were big and each cat had a bowl of food and water and a clean pee pad. There was another door leading to a big open area full of fake grass and a little trough of litter. There were scratch posts and a few automatic cat toys scattered around. About a dozen cats were out playing in the fake yard with two more employees playing and petting and feeding. 

"Why are these in cages right now?" Damian asked her. 

"We take them out in shifts so everybody gets time to play. We can take more out when it's nice enough to go out to the yard, but it's pretty cold and so we're just staying in. Some of the older cats need more rest than the kittens, and certain cats just prefer to be out alone. We do our best to cater to each cat." She told him. Damian nodded.

They looked at a lot of cats. A lot of little kittens, one big old cat with a smushed up face, but there was one that just melted Damian's heart. A fluffy black cat with a white chest and blue eyes. He meowed loudly and barreled up to Damian's feet and pounced on his shoes. He chewed on his shoelaces until Damian picked him up. The kitten purred and curled up in his hands. 

"Does he have a name?" Damian asked. 

"Mr. Tuna. But you can rename him if you'd like." She said. Damian gently scratched his soft little head.

"Is that the one?" Alfred asked. Damian grinned and nodded. The woman took them back up to the front and had them fill out a few papers. Alfred helped Damian when he needed it, and made sure Damian gave her the money, "What's his name?"

"Alfred the cat." Damian said. His white chest reminded him of the white shirts and black coats Alfred wore at home. 

"As opposed to Alfred the man?" He asked with a small smile. 

"Yeah. Does he need dishes and stuff?" Damian asked. 

"We have a room set up for him already. He has food and water, a litter box, toys, a bed, and a scratching post. Plenty for a kitten to do." Alfred told him, "We should get you home and ready for the party."

Damian had to leave his kitten in the crate during the car ride, but as soon as they got home he brought him to the little room they had set up and set him gently in his bed. 

Tim came running in with Dad following behind. Damian scowled at his hyperactive older brother and tried to keep some distance between him and the kitten. His dad put a heavy hand on Tim's shoulder and crouched down behind the pair, "He's a cute little guy."

"He's in a new place so we gotta leave him alone until he feels safe." He reminded them. Tim reached out and pet him. Damian watched him like a hawk, he had to make sure he didn't hurt his new cat. The precious baby needed caring for. 

~*~

Bruce had invited a few other people over. Damian had a few friends from school, but Bruce had made sure to bring Silena, Barbara, and James. Kate was out of town, otherwise, she would've come too.

The doorbell rang for what must've been the last guest. A boy about Damian's age stood with two men. They were in their mid-thirties. 

"We're here for Damian Wayne?" The taller man said. 

"He's just in the other room there. I think they're just starting up a game of Jenga. Alfred can help if you get lost." Bruce pointed to where the kids were playing games. The boy thanked him and hurried inside.

"I know the invitation said no gifts, but Henry was really worried about Damian after what happened at school. So we got him something small." They handed him a gift addressed to Damian, "He insisted on getting a birthday present for him. He said he has to be his best friend since he can't be his boyfriend."

"That's sweet of you. He told me he was gay like a week before and he was really worked up about what other kids would think about him. We've been doing what we can here, but you know that can only go so far. I really appreciate the kindness." Bruce explained. The bullying at school hadn't stopped, he was still getting teased, he'd gotten pushed a few times. Bruce had a horrible feeling that if things got much worse he would explode and all the progress they had made with him would just unravel.

"It's really the least we can do. Call if you need anything at all." They told him. Bruce closed the door and took the gift inside. The family had brought him gifts for after the party, so he set Henry's present along with the rest. He turned to talk to the adults. 

"Silena said you've been seeing someone." Barbara smiled. Bruce rolled his eyes. 

"Yeah, I guess. It's not anything yet really, but we've got out a couple of times." Bruce shrugged. Silena giggled.

"Tell us about her." Barbara said. They sat in the dining room since the kitchen was a little too snug with her chair. He hadn't had the time to renovate the house for her, but the penthouse was fully accessible.

"She's actually a he." Silena sipped her Capri sun. She had asked for wine, but this was a child's birthday party. She was getting a small bag of ambiguously flavored juice. 

"Yeah. He's a good guy though. He's a reporter from Kansas and he likes Greek food and sweaters." Bruce explained, "He's nice."

"You're smiling." James told him. Bruce blushed. 

"Oh look, he's in love." Barbara bat her eyelashes at him. 

"I am not. We've hardly even seen each other. I'm sure it's just a fling." Bruce slouched back in his seat. Barbara and Silena grinned at him. 

~*~

Damian had opened his presents after everyone had left. He liked his gifts, they were cool. Henry had given him a big plushie sheep and a homemade rainbow beaded bracelet. Be proud was written in circular white beads. He put on his new bracelet and brought his sheep down to watch Avatar with his family. 

Sokka was learning about swords in this episode. Damian held his sheep tightly to his chest.

"What sort of bender do you think everyone would be?" Dick asked. 

"I don't know. You seem to have thoughts about it." Dad told him.

"Yes. Well, if we go by our birthdays, then Dad, you would be air, Alfred, Jason, and I would be fire, and Tim and Damian would be water. But I don't think that works very well." Dick shook his head, "I think that you and Tim are all earth. Jason and Damian are fire. Alfred is water, and I'm air."

"I don't believe I would be a bender, Master Dick. I think I would have talent elsewhere." He said.

"Why do I have to be fire?" Damian pouted. Firebenders were the bad guys, was he a bad guy? 

"Remember what Iroh said about firebending?" Tim asked, "It's just feelings. When you have a lot of feelings, it just kinda shoots out you know? Sometimes your feelings just kinda shoot out, that's all."

"Are you saying I'm too emotional?" Damian asked. 

"No, just the right amount of emotional. Iroh says you just gotta direct it the right way." Tim said. Damian felt attacked from all sides. He knew in his head he was blowing up over nothing. But the rest of him didn't care. Obviously, he had no control over his emotions, and he was just one big mood swing, and everyone was fed up with it. 

"I can direct it the right way. I'm not like Zuko. I can control my feelings." He really didn't mean to be as loud as he was. Dad stood up and took him out of the room. Damian wanted to push him and fight back and stand his ground, but he knew that do nothing good. So he walked out quietly. 

"Hold on tight to your sheep." Dad said gently, "In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Five things you see."

"Sheep. Floor. The rug. You. Walls." He said, doing his best to talk and breathe as his dad said. This was technically an anxiety fix, but they figured out it worked well for his outbursts. 

"Good job. Four things you can touch." Dad told him.

"Sheep. Pajamas. Cold wood floor. You turned the heater on so I feel warm."

"Good. Three things you hear."

"The heater. Avatar. You're breathing." Damian said. 

"Can you go back inside?" Bruce asked. Damian nodded. They walked back inside and Damian snuggled up to his dad. He liked being close, it felt better.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce was a cute kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, timeline a little funky for this and the last chapter. This chapter takes place after Dick starts getting bullied but before his birthday party. That's my bad, I'm shit at planning.

"So you missed me?" Clark asked. Bruce smiled.

"Only if you won't get a big head about it." He said. 

"I think it's too late for that. One of the most powerful men in America missed me. How could I not get a little bit of an ego?" Clark said. Bruce rolled his eyes and kissed him on the park bench. 

"I missed you too." Clark grinned. He rested his head on Bruce's shoulder. Bruce wrapped an arm around his shoulders, "Aren't you worried about paparazzi or something?" 

"No. Hard to get good pictures from here." Bruce said, "How was your weekend?"

"Fine. Got some work done. Watched a few movies. Cleaned the apartment." Clark said, "What about you?" 

"Well, Damian is getting picked on at school, Dick is frustrated about his back, Jason snuck out again, Tim had to go to urgent care because he decided to eat soap to see if it tasted like it smelled." Bruce sighed. 

"He what?" 

"He took a bar of soap. And he took a bite. And he swallowed it. And then he got really sick. So we took him to urgent care. He's fine. They gave him some charcoal and he'll be okay." Bruce shrugged, "Once Dick and Jason decided to drink a bottle of coke each and eat a package of mentos and they were both sick throwing up for almost two days, so this is nothing."

"Oh my god."

"It's middle school. Or private school. One of the two. My kids go to public school now so we'll never know." He said, "It could've also just been the fact that Jason and Dick are a deadly duo when they're both up for it."

Clark laughed and kissed his shoulder. Bruce kissed him again, holding his face in his hands.

"You know what I just realized?" Bruce asked. Clark tilted his head, "I have a whole penthouse just sitting there."

"Do you want to go?" Clark asked him. 

"Might be a little more private." Bruce shrugged. 

~*~

The penthouse was big. Eight bedrooms. And mostly empty. On occasion, someone would pop in, so there were snacks and wine. Bruce settled onto the couch and held his arms out for Clark. He sat down on Bruce's lap wrapped his arms around his neck. 

"A whole penthouse to ourselves." Clark said with a smile. 

"Just you wait until sunset." Bruce said, "We've got a view of the whole city skyline and it just glows."

"Can't wait to see it." Clark kissed him with a smile. He turned to rest his head on Bruce's chest and saw the photo album on the coffee table. He reached out for it before Bruce could stop him. He climbed off of Bruce and snuggled up next to him. 

"You have photo albums?" Clark asked. 

"Yeah. A few. This one is from after the funeral I think." He checked the date and opened it up. 

The first few pages were of Bruce, he was 11 and he was posing in front of different Italian landmarks. The Colosseum, the leaning tower of Pisa, the Sistine Chapel. Dozens of cathedrals, a gondola ride, lots of landscape pictures. He was in his childhood favorite button up and sweater vest look. He perfectly pressed shirts and beautifully shined shoes, his hair was pristine. The only think out of place was his crooked teeth, it used to make him so self-conscious, so he rarely smiled. 

"Alfred took me out to Italy after the accident. He said it might help me to get away for a while and clear my head. He was deployed to Italy in the war and told me probably fake war stories. That's when I started learning Italian." Bruce said. Clark smiled. He turned the page.

Bruce's first prize at the science fair. A sneaky picture Alfred took of Bruce asleep on a law textbook. The time Bruce met James working at the police force and got to wear the police hat. 

Slowly, his prim and proper outfits gave way to messy hair, shirts with the first few buttons open, jeans, sneakers instead of leather shoes. Alfred took pictures after all his braces appointments. Bruce standing against the wall, grinning as wide as he could. 

He remembered being so full of turmoil and emotions. He wanted to avenge his parents. At first, he wanted to be a lawyer, and bring other criminals to justice. He liked it well enough, but after James grew to be a big part of his life, he decided to be a police officer. Neither worked out in the end after he sobered up he thought revenge was a silly thing, remembrance was much more powerful. 

"You were a cute kid." Clark told him. A picture from his 14th birthday showed him in a homeless shelter with an arm slung around Silena's shoulders. He remembered asking Alfred if she could live with them. He'd said no, the legality was too complicated, but he promised they always had a bed for her and a hot meal if they ever needed it. Bruce had secretly made the same promise to the other kids in the shelter. A lot of them were gay, and it was the first time he'd ever really encountered someone who wasn't straight. 

"I think I told one of the homeless kids I thought I liked boys." Bruce said, "I totally forgot about that actually. I asked if I could like boys and girls and he told me about being bi." 

"So you are queer." Clark looked up at him, "I told my cousin Kara I was gay when I was 16. She came out as a lesbian. Later I told her I was bi."

"What did your parents think?" Bruce asked. 

"Mom cried. She's a very religious woman and she told me that God made me perfect, and I wasn't to let anyone tell me differently. She said God loved me, but she loved me too, which was much more important. Dad and I were out in the field. He just said I was a good man, and nothing could change that." Clark said. Bruce had an uncomfortable knot on his stomach. 

"Your family is Catholic?" Bruce asked. Clark nodded. 

"Why?" 

"Oh, I'm just Jewish and I've found Catholics especially don't like that fact very much." Bruce said nervously. He liked to keep that fact to himself, either it didn't seem relevant, or he didn't feel comfortable enough to tell the group. He remembered coming home crying because a group of kids pushed him down the stairs calling him slurs at school.

"I didn't know you were Jewish." Clark said. Bruce nodded.

"Is that a problem?" Bruce asked. He bit his lip. Clark shook his head.

"Why would that be a problem? Granted I don't know a lot about Jewish culture, so apologies in advance, but I'm here to learn." Clark said with a smile. 

"That's fine. I'm a secular Jew, so I don't do all the Jewish things. I like to keep kosher, we do Hanukkah and Christmas since I grew up with that, we usually have Passover. Big 13th birthday parties. Just stuff I grew up with, you know?" Bruce said. Clark nodded. 

"Hey, I have a question." Clark asked. 

"Shoot."

"Should I tell my mom we're dating? She keeps asking, and I keep brushing her off. I told her I'm seeing a guy and I think it's going well, but she's nosy." Clark said.

"I think you can tell her about me. Unless she's planning to leak it to a tabloid or something. I just hate being swarmed by the press and paparazzi. Do you want to go visit for Thanksgiving?" Bruce asked. Clark blinked. 

"I don't know if I can afford tickets. I haven't had the opportunity to go out for a big paying story since we met and I'm just living off salary until I find something. And flying is expensive." Clark said with a sigh. He scowled at his lap when he tried to crunch the numbers in his head. 

"Why bother with tickets? I have a plane. Like I can just call them and we can be in the Philippines by morning. It's not really a big deal." Bruce blinked. Clark opened his mouth to say something, and then just closed it again, "Are you good? Moneywise?"

"Yeah, I make enough to live on, I just have to budget really carefully." Clark muttered quietly, "You can really just fly out to see my mom?"

"Sure. We make it a family trip." Bruce said with a shrug. Clark kissed him, "You just love kisses don't you."

"You're one to talk." Clark said and turned back to the family album.

~*~

"Hey, Diana." Clark said through the phone, "I'm glad you could talk. So I think I have a sugar daddy now?"

"You think?" Diana asked. 

"Yeah. I didn't do it on purpose, but he invited me to take a trip home on his private plane and he keeps paying for stuff for me." Clark said, "Part of me is tempted to push and see how far I get. But that seems slimy and I don't know. Is that bad of me?" 

"Milk the man for every penny he's worth. You deserve it." She said. She sounded a little too serious about the whole thing.

"That's so many pennies though, Di. He's has a private plane. That's like millions of dollars to just have." Clark collapsed on his bed, exhausted from trying to figure this out. 

"Is he good to you?" Diana asked. 

"I mean, yeah. He's sweet and charming and told me he missed me. He's got great kids and he cares so much about them." Clark grumbled. He hated that Bruce was so good, he wanted to hate him so he could use him for money instead of just feeling bad about making him go out of his way for him. He got a text, "Hold on, he's texting me. I'll call you back in a bit."

_I have been informed of the term sugar daddy_

**Yeah?**

Clark's heart pounded. He didn't know which outcome was worse for him.

_I kinda want to be your sugar daddy. But less buying sex with designer bags and just being your boyfriend and buying you anything you could ever want_

**Boyfriend?**

_That's probably too strong oops. Forget I said that._

**But I want you to be my boyfriend**

I took a long time for Bruce to respond. Clark didn't know if he should double text. He was nervous. Should he call him? Was that okay? He felt stuck, waiting for the notification. 

_Well, Boyfriend. If there's anything at all you could possibly want, don't hesitate to ask_

**Do I have a limit, boyfriend?**

_Quarter mill/month seem good to you?_

Clark choked. That was more money than he could have imagined.

**More than enough, dear lord**

_That's your limit. You don't just like, get it. But you can ask for anything you want under that limit_

Clark honestly didn't know what to say. He just stared at his ceiling. But he was feeling brave lately. He didn't know why. He typed out a text without thinking and hit send before he could regret it. 

**All I really want right now is you in bed**

_See you Saturday ;)_


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark watches the kids.

"Okay, so they've already had dinner, Tim isn't allowed near any sugar after dinner. Remind him to take his meds at 9 o'clock or he won't sleep. It's a weekend so Damian can stay on the TV until 10:30. If you see him start to get angry, take him out of the room, deep breathes for a little while until he calms down. Bed before midnight. Damian should have his cow in his room." Bruce told Clark. He handed him the list of instructions he made out of paranoia.

"Dad, where's my phone?" Jason called out. 

"Plugged in on the kitchen counter by the coffee pot." Bruce replied, "Kitchen is all free game. Damian and Tim can both help with the TV if you need it. My room is upstairs at the end of the hall if you need it for whatever reason. Alfred, did you give Tim his Adderall today?"

"Yes, Master Bruce. You worry too much. Leave them be." Alfred told him. Bruce sighed. 

"I'm sorry, it's the first time I'm leaving the kids with someone other than me, Alfred, or Dick. I'm a little nervous." Bruce took a deep breath. 

"Everything will be fine. I'll take really good care of them. Go have fun." Clark kissed him goodbye, Bruce relaxed a little.

"Theoretically, we'll be home by 10. But I'll keep you updated. You're a lifesaver." Bruce held his hand. He wandered away to round up the two boys. Clark turned to the little ones. Tim rocked back and forth on his toes, Damian held a stuffed sheep with a dead stare. 

Bruce walked by and hugged the two boys, "Be good to Clark, I don't want you two scaring him off. I'll be back tonight if you can't sleep."

He followed the others out the door, blowing a kiss the Clark. 

"Are you Dad's boyfriend? He never told me." Damian asked. 

"Yeah, it's a recent development. Look, we have matching bracelets." Clark smiled and held up his hand, showing the boy the rainbow bracelet he had. Damian hugged with disgust and turned around. Clark just blinked. 

"He's just mean, don't worry. You should come see my trains. They're really cool and fun. I made a whole bunch of them and I'm working on making a whole little village like Thomas the Train with a station and houses and a farm and stuff. And Dad's helping teach me about circuitry so I can make the buildings light up." Tim pulled him into the library and started to set up the train track. Damian wandered in and sat on the floor in front of Tim. 

"Tim has ADHD." Damian looked up at him. Tim set his train down and let it run along the track.

"Before your trains didn't need a track. Isn't this a step backward?" Clark asked. He watched the six trains all running along simultaneously. 

"Well, I suppose. But when I had more than two trains running at once they bumped into each other a lot. And I suppose I could ask Jason to help me program an AI system to keep them in order. But it seemed easier to just design a track network for them to run along and I just programmed the tracks based on a timer to make sure we don't have accidents. I've only done a little bit of testing, but this is the best run yet. Sometimes the yellow train tips off the track though, I'm not sure how to help that." Tim rambled, "I need goo."

He left the library, leaving just Damian and Clark together. Clark sat on the ground next to him, "Do you always carry a sheep with you?" 

Damian shook his head, "Cow comes with me a lot." 

"You're kinda old for stuffed animals, aren't you?" Clark asked. Damian bounced his sheep, playing with the plushie. 

"Yeah, probably. I had a hard time with feelings when I first met Dad. So he got me a bunch of toys and that helped. Cow and sheep make me feel better when I'm scared or sad." Damian explained. The little yellow train fell over as Tim walked back in the room with a small plastic container of slime. He quickly absorbed himself in his work. 

"Did you make your bracelet yourself?" Clark asked. Damian shook his head, "Who made it for you?" 

"My friend. Kids are being mean at school so he wanted to remind me that I'm okay." Damian said, "May I please go and get a snack?"

"Sure. Make good choices." Clark told him. Damian thanked him and left the room. 

Tim set the little yellow train down and squished his slime, "What's the weirdest thing you've reported about?"

"That's a good question, business, and political reporting isn't usually the most exciting." Clark responded, "In college, I reported on a group that called themselves the wet bandits and vandalized all the bathrooms on campus."

"That's boring. Once I found Jason smoking with his friends and he was spray-painting stuff on the walls and I wasn't supposed to tell anybody but now I'm telling you and I'm not really sure why." Tim told him. Clark laughed, "Conner thought it was super cool and he really wanted to spray paint something but I told him no and then we went and ate ice cream."

Damian sat back on the floor with a box of crackers. Tim paced and fiddled with his train. He muttered quietly about wondering how hard it would be to touch the ceiling and how he should ask Dick when he got home. Damian pretended to feed his sheep, he spoke quietly in what Clark assumed was Arabic. Clark just observed. He watched Tim sway back and forth slowly while he pulled pieces out of the train and stick them back in. 

"Clark." Damian looked up at him and blinked, "Watch Avatar me and sheep?" 

"You forgot the in-between words again." Tim said without looking up. 

"I haven't been speaking English very long." Damian snapped back, "I'm working on it."

"I know. Your accent is gone now, just remember the in-between words." Tim reminded him. Damian huffed. 

"I'd love to watch Avatar with you and sheep." Clark smiled and followed him to the theater. Clark was overwhelmed at the size of it. A big projector, leather couches, speakers in the walls. Damian sat on the couch and turned on his show. Clark hadn't seen it before, but Damian seemed completely enamored. He explained as the episode progressed.

"That's Aang, he's trying to defeat Firelord Ozai, but he's nervous because he's just 12 years old." Damian said, pointing to the characters on screen. 

"And he's having nightmares about it?" Clark asked. 

"Yeah. He has a lot going on." Damian said. The boy in the show screamed into the side of a sheep like a pillow and Damian pointed to the screen, "That's you, sheep."

Clark smiled. He was a cute kid. He was curious about the story with his mom. Bruce didn't seem particularly ready or willing to share details, and he tensed up if Clark asked. Was Damian the result of some sort of sexual assault? But what would be the motivation? Bruce was usually such a big advocate, why hadn't he ever brought it up? There were so many questions floating in his head.

After a couple episodes of the show, Damian drifted off the sleep. Clark quietly shut off the TV and went to find Tim. He was still in the library, fiddling with the model train. Clark told him what happened. 

"Oh I'll show you his room. The TV makes him fall asleep. I can't pick him up though." Tim said he was slowly putting his train back together.

"I can carry him if you can show me his room." Clark said. He scooped up the little boy and Tim grabbed his sheep. 

Damian had an interesting room. He had glow stars stuck to his ceiling, and a corkboard filled with different things. Some were pictures pinned up, others were printouts, drawings, ticket stubs, playbills, a leaf. A pile of stuffed animals sat in the corner and action figures lined his shelves. The room was painstakingly neat and tidy. A collection of candles sat on his bookcase. Some of his books were in English, some in Arabic. Clark saw The Invention of Hugo Cabret, Narnia, Sherlock Holmes, Alice in Wonderland, Edgar Allen Poe, all neatly lined up and organized by the author's surname. Just as what was proper. 

He tucked Damian into bed softly and Tim made she he held tightly to his sheep while he slept. The pair snuck back downstairs. 

"When is Dad gonna be home?" Tim asked. 

"Around 10, unless he lets me know otherwise." Clark replied, "Need something?" 

"Just curious. Are you gay?" Tim asked him. 

"No, I'm bi." He said with a shrug. 

"Did you have a girlfriend?" His eyes widened. They sat together on the couch and talked. Tim was an inquisitive boy. 

"I did. Her name was Lois, but we broke up a while ago." Clark explained, "Did you have a girlfriend yet?"

Tim's face turn a deep shade of red. He stared down at his lap and crossed his arms firmly over his chest, "No. Girls are gross."

"What's her name?" Clark teased. 

"Steph isn't my girlfriend. She's just a friend." Tim said. Clark grinned, "She built a ufo out of the waffles at the school cafeteria once."

Tim gushed about the girl in math class with him. A quirky girl who snorted when she laughed. She sounded cute. Clark just liked hearing about the middle school drama. But pretty soon, bedtime rolled around for Tim too. He gave him his meds and sent him up to bed. And this gave Clark plenty of time for some innocent snooping.

He wandered up into Bruce's bedroom, he already had permission, and he wouldn't open anything. He just wanted to look around. 

The room was decorated all in black and white. A big, fluffy white comforter on the bed, black curtains, black hardwood, white walls. One black wall was lined with tall white shelves and a mounted TV. It was messy. The bed wasn't made, there was laundry on the floor, piles of things on every available surface. An open box sat on the corner of the room. Clark took a peek inside, it wasn't closed, which meant fair game.

A flat cap was inside, along with several VHS tapes, a USB drive, and a big stack of playbills. Pocahontas, Jungle Book, Midsummer Night's Dream, Much Ado About Nothing, Newsies, even Toy Story. Clark looked through the bills. Bruce used to act. And not just act, he was in musical theater. Clark had stumbled upon a gold mine. He took a picture of the Toy Story playbill, advertising Bruce Wayne as Ken Doll. 

He texted the picture to Bruce. **And you told me you didn't know if you were gay**

_Play just got out. How dare you expose me like this._

**You played lead in Newsies?**

_Dick saw my phone and said you're a shady bitch and laughed. I don't know what he's saying_

Clark smiled and put everything away back in the box.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christian Bale was Jack in Newsies and that fact haunts me to this day. Which means Bruce Wayne is and always will be a theater kid. 
> 
> Is it ironic to make Bruce Wayne lead of a musical about the blue collar working class? Yes. Is it also ironic that Broadway is an extremely classist money hungry company that has a musical about the blue collar working class as one of its most successful productions? Also yes, so I don't feel bad.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Clark have some adult fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Sex Chapter
> 
> TW: Dom/Sub, sexual choking, handcuffs

Bruce stood awkwardly at Clark's doorway. Silena told him to wear cute underwear today, and the comment made him feel a little weird, but he listened anyway. He thought about bringing flowers or alcohol or something, but Dick said that it was a bad move for today. 

Clark wore a cute blue sweater and a pair of jeans. His feet were bare, his hair a little messy. He answered the door and pulled Bruce in. He kissed him and smiled. 

"Come sit. I've already cued up the movie." Clark said. Bruce took his shoes off and sat on the couch, "Sorry it's not a mansion or a penthouse or anything. I have a normal apartment, but they allow dogs, which is cool if I ever wanted to get a dog."

"This must be so easy to keep clean. And you can actually fill up space instead of just being in an empty box." Bruce sighed. He had a whole piano room. No one played the piano. He just had an extra room and a piano, so he just, put the piano in there. And that's the piano room. 

"Well, it's still kind of a big empty box, but I appreciate the sentiment." Clark said. Bruce kissed him and sat on the couch. 

"Stop worrying about your house and come show me what 50 Shades of Grey is." Bruce said. Clark curled up next to him and played the movie. Bruce was completely uninterested in this weird romance movie, he really didn't understand the hype. He instead took to running his fingers through Clark's pretty hair. Curly and soft, so black it was almost blue. His hair smelled fruit adjacent, like strawberry soap. He pressed kisses to the top of his head. His neck was tense and stiff. Maybe he should treat him to a spa day. 

Bruce's attention was jerked back to the screen when the hot billionaire started telling the innocent reporter about his "playroom". The pieces started to click in his brain, and he was suddenly very glad he wore his cute underwear. 

The first sex scene began. The hot billionaire tied the girl's hair back and left her on the floor. Clark kissed him and started lowering him to the couch. Bruce allowed him for now, why not let him think for a moment he would be in control. Clark ran his hands over his chest, down his belly, softly resting on his thighs.

Bruce reached out and pushed Clark over, he pinned him down to the couch, hand around his throat, "I'm the one in control. Understand?" 

"Yes." Clark nodded. He was taller than Bruce, stronger than Bruce, could easily overpower him. But they both knew he wouldn't. Clark tilted his head back for Bruce to get a better grip. Bruce smirked. 

"Good. I feel nice today, so tell me what you want." Bruce knew what he wanted. He knew he wanted Clark on his knees, hands behind his back, dreamily waiting for instructions. But maybe Clark was expecting soft kisses and gentle fingers running down his chest. Maybe he wanted to hear sweet nothings whispered in his ear. 

"Want you." Clark said. Bruce tightened his grip. 

"Be specific, or I'll pick for you." Bruce told him. Clark whimpered and bucked his hips up, "That's not an answer. So looks like I get the choice."

Bruce pulled Clark's sweater over his head and climbed out from between his legs. 

"Stand up. Back to me." Bruce told him. Clark obeyed. It had been a long time since Bruce had been in charge, and always with a stranger, usually not sober. He had missed the power he felt when he pulled his belt off. He snapped it, making a loud cracking sound. Clark jumped a little. Bruce looped the belt back on itself and tightened down around Clark's wrists. Clark tried to pull his hands apart, but Bruce had done his job well.

He turned Clark around and kissed him. Bruce's hands went for Clark's pants. He could feel his half hand cock under his hands and he squeezed lightly.

"Bruce." Clark said quietly. 

"Yes?" He paused his motions. He wanted to give his full attention. 

"I've never had sex with a guy. I've done some stuff, just not, the actual, sex part." Clark told him. 

"That's okay." Bruce pecked his lips, "Last time I did, was maybe 20 years ago and I think I was pretty high. I'll stop the second you say the word."

"Banana muffin is a good safeword?" Clark asked. 

"Perfect." He kissed him again before turning back to his pants. He pulled them off his legs, Clark helping to kick them off. He wore tight little red boxers under his jeans. Bruce purred and tugged them down.

He was a little surprised to see Clark was completely shaved. He looked up at Clark while he sank to his knees and ran his tongue up Clark's impressive shaft, making him shiver. He squeezed his ass and sat back up on the couch.

"On your knees." He said. Clark dropped to his knees between Bruce's legs. Exactly where he wanted him, if only he had a vibrator or something for him to sit on. 

He unbuttoned his pants and pulled his cock out. Clark tentatively licked at the head. Bruce ran his fingers through Clark's curly hair while he carefully lapped at Bruce. He grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled him down, forcing him to swallow Bruce down. Clark gagged and Bruce let him come up for air. 

He shook his head and tried to push his glasses off with his shoulder. Bruce took them off for him and set them neatly on the end table. His eyes looked so big without his glasses. Clark wrapped his mouth around his cock and bounced his head. Bruce wedged his leg between Clark's knees while he sucked. Clark bucked his hips against his leg and moaned, making Bruce purr with pleasure.

"Good boy. Does my cock taste good?" Bruce asked. Clark hummed around it, not wanting to pull away. He looked so pretty, his lips swollen and red, his hair was messy, his cheeks flushed with a gleam of lust. Bruce grabbed his hair and pulled him up for a kiss. Clark's back arched into the kiss as Bruce worked his tongue into his mouth. He let Clark fall back on his knees. He looked up at Bruce dreamily, lips wet with saliva and precum. 

Bruce leaned forward and grabbed his chin. He forced Clark to look him in the eyes, "You know what I want?"

"What?" Clark asked quietly, leaning forward for another kiss. 

"I want to finger you open, and fuck you right here on the couch until you cum so hard you can't walk." Bruce told him. Clark hummed and Bruce shook him by his jaw, "Don't know what you want?"

Clark shook his head, "Never tried before."

"Then we'll play my way." Bruce told him as he let go of his face. Clark had an out if anything was uncomfortable. He really didn't want to push too hard their first go around, "Turn around, head down, ass up."

"There are lube and condoms in the end table." Clark told him as he worked to turn around. Bruce pulled open the little drawer. A couple of condoms and a bottle of lube sat, just as Clark said. Bruce took his ring off and set it on the table with Clark's glasses. He poured lube on his fingers and massaged it slowly over Clark's crack. 

"Relax, you'll feel better. Big deep breath." Bruce told him softly. Clark took a shaky breath. As he exhaled, Bruce pressed two of his fingers in. He saw Clark tense up, so he paused, "Do you want me to be mean to you? Or do you want nice right now?"

"Be mean to me." Clark muttered. Bruce growled and pushed Clark's head further into the rug. He pressed his fingers in deep and working until his whimpers turned into moans. Carefully, he removed his fingers and rolled on a condom. 

He lubed himself up and pressed in slowly, Clark moaned loudly. Bruce held on tightly to his hips and thrust in. Clark whined in time with Bruce's hips. Clark was so warm and tight around him, it almost made him dizzy. He dug one of his hands in Clark's hair, guiding his hips with his other hand. Clark squirmed against his makeshift cuffs. Bruce let go of his hip and held his hands still. 

"Do you like getting fucked?" Bruce asked. 

"Yes." Clark said. His breath was shaky, "Want to cum so bad."

Bruce purred and reached around to play with his cock. Clark groaned and bucked his hips up into Bruce's hand. Bruce angled himself a little differently, and Clark melted into the floor. He moaned as his toes curled up. 

"There, please. More." Clark begged. His words were slurred together with pleasure. Bruce smirked and did exactly as he was told. He sped up his pace, he could feel a ball of hot tension building up in his gut.

Clark's body was tense and hot. He bit his lips and whimpered, too close to orgasm to moan the way he wanted. Bruce felt himself getting close, his thrusts were sloppy and uneven, but he was determined to make Clark cum first. 

Luckily, he didn't have to wait long. He watched a shudder roll through him. He moaned into the floor as he shot ribbons of white-hot cum into Bruce's hand. Bruce followed soon after. He let out a choked groan and filled the condom with cum. He let himself ride out the waves of pleasure before pulling out.

He put himself away, tied the condom up, and stood up to throw it away. He carefully untied Clark and pulled him in for a hug. Clark wrapped his arms around him and nuzzled softly into his neck.

"You did so good." Bruce kissed his forehead. Clark snuggled closer into his chest, "We should get you into the shower, make sure to get cleaned up."

Clark whined and shook his head. Bruce squeezed him close. 

"I can come with if you'd like." He said. Clark nodded, "Okay. Come on."

Bruce helped him up and into the little bathroom. He sat him down on the toilet with the lid shut, "Shower or bath?"

"Bath." Clark said. Bruce kissed the top of his head and turned on the water, "Towels under the sink."

Bruce grabbed a towel. And peeled off his layers of clothes. Clark watched carefully as he stripped down. He placed a hand gently on the subtle stretch marks on his hips. Bruce smiled. Clark leaned over and kissed his ass. Bruce turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. 

"You have a really good butt." Clark said quietly. Bruce rolled his eyes and helped him into the bath. He sank in behind him and pulled him back to lay on his chest. He pressed soft little kisses onto Clark's neck and shoulders. Clark giggled. 

"You were so good today." Bruce said. 

"I barely did anything. Where did you learn to make handcuffs with a belt?" Clark asked.

"Madrid, I think." Bruce told him, "I just realized I have no idea how old you are."

"I'm 32." Clark answered. Bruce took a sharp breath in.

"Well fuck me I guess." Bruce sighed. 

"What's up?" Clark asked.

"I'm 44. The height of my drugged out time abroad happened when you were Damian's age." Bruce whispered. He felt a little gross and dirty knowing Clark was over a decade younger than him. 

"I know. I remember in sixth grade everyone was talking about your trip to Paris. That's how I learned about the fact sex work exists." Clark told him. He kissed his cheek softly. 

"That's not weird to you?" Bruce asked. He indirectly taught his boyfriend was a stripper was, they can't date now. 

"No. We're adults, no one cares. I've always gotten along better with people older than me, and I'm not a wild party animal in my early 20s." Clark shrugged. 

"That's a good point. But what are people going to say when they find out? It'll already be a big enough shock that I have a boyfriend, but a boyfriend who's 12 years younger than me?" Bruce thought. Clark kissed him gently. 

"We'll figure that out later. For now, just come sit in the bath with me." Clark said, "We can take a nap later if you want."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna be real for a second. I have OCD, and a really common symptom is contamination obsessions, so I'll get fixated on the idea that I'm somehow contaminated and diseased with no real bearing in reality. Generally I manage it pretty alright, but with recent events, I'm really struggling mentally. 
> 
> Chapters might be coming out a little more sporadically, just because existing is hard right now. But I'm doing the best I can. We're all good and okay out here, I'm just not in the most productive and peaceful of headspaces at the moment.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce throws a Halloween party.

"Dad, can I bring Wally to the Halloween party?" Dick asked.

"Sure. Are you all ready?" Bruce asked. 

"Of course, Halloween is queer rights." Dick told him. 

"What? What does that mean?" Bruce asked under his breath. He should make it against the rules to use slang in his presence. 

"It just means Halloween is a good time for queer people. We like it a lot." Dick said, "It's like an iconic thing in the queer community."

"Queer?" Bruce asked. He'd heard it as a really mean word when he was growing up, but if Dick could say it, it's meaning must've changed. 

"Used to be a homophobic slur. Now it's an umbrella term for not straight. And genderqueer means not cis. You can say you're gay and queer, or bi and queer, or whatever. Or you can just say you're queer and that's it." Dick explained. Bruce nodded, "So I'm queer. But I swap out exactly what label I use depending on who I'm talking to."

"You can do that?" Bruce asked.

"Sure. You can do whatever you want, it doesn't really matter." Dick shrugged. Bruce blinked.

"I can just say I'm queer? That's its own thing? I don't have to say I'm anything else?" Bruce asked. Dick shook his head, "I think I'm queer."

"Nice. That's a three out of six, that's pretty good." Dick said with a smile. Bruce just blinked as his son walked away. Just like that, he had a word for what he was. He didn't know what to do with it, but he had a word. And that made him feel a lot better. 

_I figured it out. I'm queer and that's all_

**Good job. I'm proud of you <3**

He smiled at Clark's response. He felt good with a label, even if the label he picked didn't have much meaning to it. It was still work, something he could announce instead of just not knowing.

_I want to bring you to the Halloween event tonight, but I think it's best to keep our relationship quiet for a while longer._

He loved the quiet little bubble they had made. He didn't want interviews and cameras and questions. He wanted Clark all to himself. All those big muscles and curly hair, all for him. 

**You know. It might be a good idea to report on such a big charity event. Of course, it would be all strictly business and I would absolutely not condone sneaking away and making out in a storage closet.**

Bruce smirked and sent him the address. Of course, the hosts needed the best costumes, it was good for publicity. Dick had requested an Alice in Wonderland theme this year. They had no girls to be Alice, so Dick volunteered. Originally he planned to wear a dress but he had a hard time making anything look quite right with his bulky arms and shoulders.

Instead he settled on a white shirt, blue vest, and black pants. He had a black bow tie on his pants were tucked into a pair of black boots, and his sleeves rolled up to reveal his black fingerless gloves.

"You look pretty goth to be a little Victorian girl." Bruce commented. 

"Yeah, but I didn't want to wear a wig or dye my hair. But Alice from the games has black hair and blue eyes, so we're going with that." Dick shrugged.

Jason was the Queen, now King, of Hearts. His white patches actually worked well with the look. A deep red coat, a big cloak, all decorated with card suites gold embroidery. Dick even helped him put a little makeup on. It was subtle, but it came together. 

Tim picked the white rabbit. He had little rabbit ears, a red vest, and a gold pocket watch on loan from Alfred. Dick put blush all over his nose to give him a rabbit face.

Damian took up the Cheshire Cat role. He wore a big oversized fuzzy striped sweater and little ears. He had a choker with a bell hanging from it. Damian hated the ringing, so there was no ball inside to make noise. He had little whiskers on his face, and Dick did some makeup magic to make his mouth look upturned in a permanent smile.

Alfred wore a suite with rabbit ears and claimed he was the March hare. Bruce went as the mad hatter. Using odds and ends to embellish clothes he already had. He bandaged his hands up for a fistfight, he wasn't sure why, but it helped sell the look. He was a little warm in the big wool trench coat, but he could manage.

~*~

The event was boring. They rose some money, they drank some drinks, they played some embarrassing music. Bruce watched Dick try to get Damian to dance. Damian stood there and scowled, but Dick continued to try. He sighed when he saw how close Jason was to the alcohol. Granted, they didn't have much, as it was supposed to be a child-friendly event, there was some available.

Bruce walked over and put a hand on his shoulder, "That's not for you." 

"I know." Jason said, "That hat makes you look stupid."

"Yeah, but it's Halloween. Dick did a good job with your makeup." Bruce commented.

"I did my makeup actually. Dick helped a little, but I did it." Jason huffed. 

"You did a good job." Bruce said. Jason rolled his eyes, "I don't hate you, you know."

"Everyone hates me. It's fine. I get it." Jason sighed. Bruce's heart broke a little. But he knew Jason was the only abused little boy of the bunch. Bruce was there for the court case. So instead he wrapped an arm around his shoulders. 

"I promise I don't hate you. And I don't get all the shit you've been through. But I get what you're doing now." Bruce said. Jason groaned, "Look up what happened in Tokyo in 98. Or Paris. Or Madrid. Or Bangladesh."

Jason took his phone out of his pocket. He quickly typed something that Bruce couldn't see and his eyes went wide.

"You got arrested in Tokyo for doing ecstasy?" Jason asked. Bruce shrugged. Jason scrolled some more, "You did some fucked up shit."

Jason realized what he said and blushed. Bruce smirked at him, "You get a pass for tonight. But I'm keeping an eye on you. And know that I get why."

He got the eye of someone special out in the crowd, so he left Jason by himself and wandered over. Clark wasn't wearing his glasses, he had on a flannel shirt, jeans, cowboy boots, and a hat. The only thing ruining the costume was a messenger bag slung over his shoulder. Bruce wanted more than anything to pull him into a kiss, but he held himself back. 

"Getting back to your roots I see." Bruce said with a tip of his hat. Clark grinned when he saw him. 

"Well, I received a last-minute invitation." Clark said, straightening out his shoulders, "Stories are tight right now and I thought such a big event would make good reporting."

"Well, if you would like, we can start a little drama. Might not be exactly up your alley, but we could make the front cover of all the tabloids." Bruce said with a wink. Clark smirked.

"As much as I would love to, I would rather not put myself in the front line like that." Clark told him. Bruce thought for a moment. 

"You don't have to." He told him. Clark smiled.

"Then let's make the news." He said. Bruce took his hat off, wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's neck, and kissed him deeply. With Clark's big hat, and Bruce using his arms to cover most of his face, no one should be able to tell who Bruce is kissing. Clark's hands came to softly rest on Bruce's hips. Bruce counted in his head until he was sure everyone had taken their sneaky pictures.

He pulled away and Clark nuzzled against his neck. His hands slid back to gently squeeze Bruce's ass. He breathed in sharply. Clark pressed a kiss to his neck, "Now we'll make the front page."

Bruce smiled and the pair parted ways. 

~*~

Alfred threw the curtains open the next morning. Bruce buried his face deeper in his pillow, "Good morning, Master Bruce." 

Bruce groaned and pulled his blankets over his head.

"Master Bruce, I would encourage you to be up to prepare yourself for the day." Alfred said, "I have breakfast downstairs for you."

Bruce rolled over and checked his phone. The sunlight streamed in from the windows and made him squint. Dick and Jason both sent him texts with links to something. Silena, Barbara, James, Henry's dad, had all messaged him. His email was completely bloated with companies saying all sorts of things.

Bruce clicked on the link from Dick, which had been followed up by a text saying 'wtf dad' and many question marks. 

The article featured a picture of Bruce and Clark, but just like Bruce had planned, Clark's face was completely hidden.

"Bruce Wayne was caught with another man at the Wayne Foundation Halloween charity event last night. While the identity of Wayne's partner is unknown, it does call into question what exactly Wayne's sexual identity is. He has always been a strong advocate for the LGBTQ+ community, and is a self-identified 'sex-positive individual'. However, Wayne does not have a gleaming record. As a young adult, he was no stranger to promiscuity and illegal use. Could this potentially be a resurgence of old habits?"

Bruce rolled his eyes. He scrolled down and found another photo, of Clark's hands much too low to be decent. He smiled to himself and sent the article to Clark. 

_We did it_

He put on a pair of pajamas and pulled on a robe, dreading to put on real clothes. He wandered downstairs and started eating breakfast. Alfred let him sleep in a little while, so the kids were already up and fed. Dick sat down next to him.

"Did you just make out with your boyfriend in the middle of a giant event? Are you stupid? Like you're just going to throw him into this whole paparazzi mess?" Dick exclaimed. He threw his hands up with he talked. 

"Dick, calm down. I asked permission first, and no one can see his face in any of the pictures so he's fine." Bruce shrugged. Dick sighed loudly. 

"You can't just do that." Dick huffed. Jason walked into the kitchen and poured a glass of juice. 

"You're just pissy because your position of family thot is threatened."Jason told him. Dick stuck his tongue out at him, "Oh, I'm so hurt. How could you."

"This is serious, Jason."

"Dad doesn't seem to care that much. You shouldn't worry so much, you've gone out with half the school already, so who's really hoeing it up out here." Jason teased. Dick rolled his eyes.

"You're the one who drank a bottle of soy sauce because someone said you probably shouldn't." Dick said.

"At least I didn't sleep with Clark's cousin." Jason shrugged.

"That was one time." Dick exclaimed, he turned to face Bruce, "Dad, I've never had sex before in my life."

"I'll remember that next time you're at the movies for six hours and come home with hickeys." Bruce told him. Dick blushed.

"I've never done anything wrong." Dick told him. 

"Just be safe and don't make expensive mistakes." Bruce sighed, "Did you have not sex with Clark's cousin?"

"Maybe. If I did it was several months ago and he was very strong and I was not aware you guys would be dating." Dick explained.

"And for once, not a ginger." Jason raised his glass. Dick glared at him, Jason smirked.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce is sad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: References to past sexual assault
> 
> Trigging content will be contained in the "-" so those who would like to avoid it can still enjoy the chapter.
> 
> Extremely dialog heavy beginning. My apologies in advance. This chapter is a little long, I hope you don't mind.

Bruce should've known what he was getting into. He hated talk shows. But here he was, waiting to be announced on the Cormac O'Neal Show.

He waved to the crowd and settled into the big leather chair. A glass of water sat on the desk that Bruce wasn't allowed to drink.

"Hey, welcome to the show. I'm glad you could make it tonight." Cormac said with a smile. 

"Thank you, it's good to be here." Bruce lied through his teeth. He hated the lights. He hated the pressure. He hated the canned laughter from the audience.

"My wife and I just absolutely love what you're doing. You just held a fundraiser event for the Wayne Foundation." Corman said. Bruce nodded.

"Raising money for Gotham children's hospital. My kids came, it was a good time." He explained he tried very hard to sound pleasant.

"You've got the four boys, right? That must be a special kind of challenge at a big party like that."

"Oh it's a treat. Damian, my youngest, is a very serious little guy. Very strict and to the point. He really doesn't get Halloween, but it's my oldest son, Dick's, favorite holiday. Dick is out trying to get Damian to do the Monster Mash because it's Halloween. And Damian looks up at him and says, why is he smashing the graveyards? Does he intend to take the bones?" Bruce said. He loved Damian with all his heart. He wasn't sure if his story was actually funny, but Cormac laughed along with the audience. 

"A very literal interpretation." Cormac said. Bruce nodded, "As I'm sure you're aware, there are also some rumors going around about that party. There were some photos taken of you."

"Yeah." Bruce said, his gut wrenched, "I saw the pictures."

"First off, it looks like you were kissing a man, are we interpreting that right?" Cormac asked. He seemed careful about his wording. Bruce had already done an interview with Time that was published, so he was really just rehashing the same information.

"Yep, that's my boyfriend." He nodded, "I saw some people freaked out that this was going to be the relapse into the playboy early 20s Bruce Wayne that I'm sure everyone loved so much. It's not, we've been dating for a little while now."

"How long?" Cormac asked. 

"About a month now. It seems like we're moving fast, but our first date did include my son having a pretty serious injury so that kickstarted things. Everything is good now, he's fine." Bruce explained. The host nodded.

"Well, congratulations. And I'm glad that he's doing better now." Cormac said, "So, I've been assuming you're straight, which is probably my own fault. But obviously, you have a boyfriend and that's been working out. What's going on there?"

"I am a queer man." It felt odd to say it out loud. It was a strange feeling in his mouth, but it felt correct, "I don't think I'm bi or gay or pan or whatever. I'm just queer."

"Wow, everyone give it up for Bruce Wayne, a queer man." Cormac applauded, the audience cheered. Bryce couldn't help but smile, he felt good telling the world. Like at expectation had been knocked down, "One last curiosity of mine. Who is your boyfriend? Who's in these pictures with you?" 

"He doesn't really want a spotlight right now. In his own words, he's a poor nobody with nothing but a microscopic apartment." Bruce nodded. Corman chuckled. 

"So why kiss him? Why draw attention?" He asked. 

"He came to the party and I wanted to kiss him to say hello. So I asked if he wanted to make it to the cover of every tabloid, and he said yes as long as he's not bombarded with paparazzi. So I made sure his face was covered." Bruce shrugged.

~*~

Bruce got a call from Clark, "Hey. What's up? You never call."

"You didn't tell me you were going on TV?" Clark said, he sounded upset. 

"Oh, sorry. It didn't seem like a big deal so I guess I forgot. I think I did good with privacy though." Bruce said with a shrug.

"Oh yeah, that was fine. But you were on TV? And you didn't think it was a big deal?" Clark asked. 

"Babe, I'm on TV a lot. I was on SNL like six months ago." Bruce told him. 

"What?" 

"Yeah. Look it up. I was a film noir detective." Bruce said. Clark sighed. They talked awhile, Clark's writing was going okay, he had an interview with one of Bruce's competitors soon, "Which one?" 

"Lex Luther. He's offering military aid in the form of tech research." Clark said. Bruce's heart sank. Talia was one of the most prominent shareholders in LexCorp now that the al Ghul's pulled funding from Wayne Industries. Talia had a lot hanging over his head, and her father had a vendetta against Bruce. Shit could go really, really wrong, "Are you okay? You went quiet."

"Yeah. I'm fine. Just, thinking." Bruce said. Thinking about Talia made him feel sick. 

"Do you want me to come over to talk about it?" Clark asked. Bruce sighed. 

"Maybe. Is that okay?" 

"Of course. I can be there in like an hour." Clark told him. Bruce sighed and remembered what his old therapist had told him. Think about things that hurt, process them, and find ways around the anxiety. He took a deep breath and looked for ways he could solve the problems. 

~*~

Clark and Bruce sat in the library together. Alfred brought them tea, something he did whenever Bruce was anxious.

As a kid Alfred and Bruce held a tea party if Bruce needed to talk about something. Alfred taught him how to properly brew different kinds of teas, what temperature, how long, what should be added. Alfred used the good china for those tea parties so long ago.

-

"What's up?" Clark asked, his steaming mug sat on the coffee table. 

"Thinking about Damian's mom." Bruce told him. 

"What happened in Cairo?" Clark asked, gently taking Bruce's hand, "Tell me all about it."

"Well, I was out on a business trip. And I really only remember pieces, I wasn't there very long. I came back full of roofies and ketamine." Bruce said. He hated reliving those memories.

"You told me all that already. What do you remember?" Clark asked. 

"Things were tense. I remember I collapsed and he told me that this would be it for me, and I blacked out. I remember waking up naked and sticky without knowing why. I remember feeling sick when I saw her or I looked in the mirror. I remember a flash of what she looked like during, but it's as close to a still image as I can imagine." Bruce explained. As he sorted through memories, he felt more cropping up. He felt nauseated thinking about it. He didn't want to talk about it anymore. He felt himself shutting down, going back to a nervous kid getting pushed down the stairs at school. He pulled his legs up to his chest. He flinched when Clark put an arm around him.

"It's just me. This is all the touching right now." Clark told him. Bruce noticed he avoided touching his skin as much as he could, which Bruce appreciated. He didn't want to be touched right now. Clark squeezed his shoulders gently. He glanced over to watch Dick open the door. He started to speak before he saw the glassy look in Bruce's eyes. 

"Do you need help?" Dick asked. Bruce shrugged, "Is touching okay right now." Bruce shook his head, "Is he okay touching you right now?" Dick pointed to Clark. Bruce nodded, "Okay. Clark, this is called disassociation. It's a symptom of trauma, which us Wayne's all have a lot of. To get him out, force him to anchor down of something real."

"Okay. How?" Clark asked. 

"Lots of ways. Just watch. What's your name?" Dick asked. 

"Bruce Thomas Wayne." Bruce answered.

"What's your Hebrew name?" 

"Eban." 

"What's his name?" Dick pointed to Clark.

"Clark Kent. I don't know his middle name." Bruce said. He thought about breathing, filling himself up.

"That's okay. What's my name?" Dick pointed to himself. 

"Richard John Grayson. You were born Aleksandr Dima Granovsky." Bruce replied. His son smiled at him. 

"My brother has a skin condition. What is his name?" Dick asked, sitting on the floor in front of him. Bruce was starting to feel better. 

"Jason Peter Todd. He has vitiligo." Bruce responded. Dick looked to Clark and apologized before switching to Russian.

"My brother has a mental illness. Who is he?" Dick asked. Bruce took a deep breath.

"Timothy Jackson Drake. He has attention deficit hyperactivity disorder." He said. He let his legs come back to the floor.

"Good job. Your son has problems with anger and anxiety. What is his name?" Dick asked. 

"Damian Kalim Wayne." Bruce said. The Russian helped pull his brain back to real life. Thinking about the words, the letters, the way they fit together, gave him something to focus on.

"What's your godfather's name?" 

"Alfred Thaddeus Crane Pennyworth." Bruce took a deep breath.

"Scale of one to ten, how are you?" Dick asked.

"Three." Bruce replied. Dick held his arms out for a hug and told him he loved him. Dick stood up.

"Is good." Dick said, his accent thick and difficult to understand. His eyes widened and he paused, "He is good." He repeated with no accent, "That has not happened since I was eight."

"Did you need something?" Bruce asked.

"Oh Tim was wondering where his meds were. He can't find them." Dick said. Bruce shrugged.

"No idea." He said. 

"I'll go see if Alfred moved them." Dick said and left the room. Clark wrapped him up in a hug and kissed his temple. 

"Do I have to keep talking?" Bruce asked. Clark shook his head.

"Only if you want to. I think I can infer the rest of the story." Clark said, "We can just sit for a while."

Bruce sipped at his tea and let himself relax into Clark's arms. He was big and soft. Bruce was muscular and tall. But he couldn't compare to Clark's old farmer muscles and calloused hands. He smelled like sunlight when the world turned soft and amber just before sunset. Clark was a world of warm browns mixing into a sweet heat. Clark was reading your grandparents' old mystery novels with yellowed pages with a mug of something hot. Clark was getting too warm by the fireplace and falling asleep without wanting to. 

Bruce warmed himself up, inviting in that golden light. He let it fill him up, turning the cold memories of death and pain and hurt, into warm remembrances of Dick's first weeks in the manor. Jason's smile as his new big brother held his hand and guided him from room to room. Tim's first robotics competition when he built a collection of wind up toys using only recycled materials. The first hug Damian ever gave his dad.

Clark ran his fingers through his hair, holding him close to his chest. Bruce could hear his steady heartbeat and the air filling up his chest. It was predictable and safe. 

"Do you want to spend the night tonight?" Bruce asked. Clark smiled and kissed his forehead.

"If your kids don't mind." He said. 

"Damian might need to come lay with us, but I could always have him go to Dick's room if he needs to." Bruce said. Clark chuckled.

"I don't have any stuff here, so-" 

"I'm a multi-billionaire. I have a spare toothbrush you can use." Bruce told him. He didn't mention it, but his dad did build a secret bunker behind the bookcases during the Cold War that Bruce did utilize completely for a potential emergency situation.

"Fair enough." Clark said with a smile. Bruce realized his offer could be taken to mean something else entirely. 

"I don't want you to stay for sex, I don't think I'm up for it tonight. I just, want company." Bruce said. It felt odd to admit he didn't want to be alone. He felt so alone for such a long time. But he supposed Alfred was always there for him, and after a while, he had kids to keep him company. So he was never truly alone.

"I assumed. That seemed pretty draining." Clark said. Bruce nodded.

~*~

Bruce had talked to his boys and made sure everyone was on the same page. He'd made sure to get Clark anything he needed for the night and they crawled into bed.

"Can I ask what Damian's thing is with the stuffed animals?" Clark asked. Bruce had assumed he was thinking about the 15-minute manhunt for Damian's cow before he sent him off to bed. 

"Have you seen Inside Out?" Bruce asked. Clark nodded, "Well I got him a bunch of action figures, and said this one is happy, this one is sad, all the emotions, like the movie. But he was a very angry kid. And he would throw things and break stuff and hit things. The hard plastic wasn't very helpful in those situations, so I got stuffed animals instead."

"So do they all mean different things?" Clark asked. 

"At first. Then the collection expanded and he started attaching them to different things and now they're more of just a comfort item." Bruce explained. The cow was bedtime. The bear was panic attacks. The dog was angry. The cat was sad. The giraffe was homesick. Sheep had become lonely, just a friend to hang out with and talk to. He was sure there would eventually be more. 

"Does it help?" 

"It's night and day I swear. He was such a brat in the beginning." Bruce said with a smile. There was a lot of work left to do, but he was so proud of the progress he was making. 

~*~

Bruce was awoken yet again by sunlight streaming in through the windows. He groaned and flipped onto his stomach, buried his face in the pillows. 

"Come on, it's morning. It's time to be up." Clark told him. 

"I'm nocturnal." Bruce groaned out. He pulled the sheets up over his head. Clark promptly pulled then back down. 

"I know you're not." He replied in a sing-song voice, "Will true love's kiss wake the sleeping beauty?"

Bruce peaked out from his pillows to glare at Clark, "You're my true love?" 

"You're famous for pushing people away. It's your thing. And you asked me to stay with you so you wouldn't be alone. That's the closest to true love I think you can get." Clark told him. 

"I don't push people away." Bruce said, his voice was still hoarse with sleep. 

"Whatever you say, my dear." Clark pulled on his shoulder until he rolled over on his back. He straddled his hips and leaned down to kiss him. Bruce could taste the harsh mint from the toothpaste. How long had Clark been awake already? He wrapped his arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer until they ran out of air. 

Clark pulled away as he smiled. Bruce rubbed the sleep from his eyes, "Fine. I'm up."

"I told you it was true love." Clark grinned with his pretty perfect teeth.

"We don't live in a fairytale, Clark." Bruce told him. His boyfriend rolled his eyes and claimed off the bed. He held a hand out to help Bruce up. Damian peaked his head in the door.

"Dad, may I please go see Batcow this afternoon." Damian asked. Bruce sighed. 

"Sure. Let's get Clark home first and then we can worry about seeing Batcow." Bruce crouched down and put a hand on his son's shoulder, "Why do you want to see her?" 

" Jason said milking cows are often mistreated and given her past, I would like to check on her." Damian said. Bruce took a deep breath. Of course, Jason would say that. Why wouldn't Jason say that? Bruce had decided Tim was his favorite child of the day. Tim was happy to just sit and fiddle with things in silence. The perfect son.

"I'm gonna get dressed, can you bring Jason down to the white room for me?" Bruce asked. Damian nodded and scampered off. 

"Batcow?" Clark asked. 

"She's a rescued milking cow. She's got a spot on her face that looks like a bat, so Damian named her Batcow." He explained. Alfred the cat stumbled into the room. Bruce picked the little guy up and held him close to his chest, "I'm sure Damian would like to see you. Do you want to wait a minute and come down with me?" 

The kitten meowed loudly at him. He set him down gently on the bed and began to get dressed for the day.

"Should I just wear my old clothes from yesterday?" Clark asked. 

"If you want. Alfred washed them for you last night, so they're clean. My clothes might be a bit snug, but you could probably still wear them if you want." Bruce shrugged. Clark was such a colorful guy, with his knit sweaters and cardigans and high top shoes. Bruce owned an entire closet of black, white, and gray. That way he always looked like a stylish, well-dressed businessman and he put in no effort at all.

"Thank you, but I can wear my own clothes. It's not my first walk of shame, and we didn't even have sex, so is it really a walk of shame at all?" Clark asked with a shrug. Bruce chuckled.

"Time to go yell at some children." He pecked his cheek softly, "If you haven't eaten yet we have food in the kitchen, and I'm sure Alfred will make you something if you ask."

Bruce sent Clark down while he went down the hall to the white room, the only room with painted white walls, white bookshelves, white furniture, everything white. The room was rarely used by anyone but Alfred, who liked the space to read and keep his houseplants. Jason sat, staring down at his lap, arms crossed. 

"Why did you convince Damian his cow was getting abused?" Bruce asked.

"I didn't, I just told him about a documentary I saw." Jason defended. 

"Well, he is convinced his cow is getting abused." He told him. Jason cracked a smile, "You know how upset he gets. And you know full well what happens when that boy is upset."

"Maybe he shouldn't care so much about a stupid cow." Jason snapped back. 

"He can care as much as he wants. So little in the world makes him happy like his animals do, and I will not take that away from him." Bruce said, "Go tell your brother you're sorry for making him worry. And do whatever is in your power to cheer him up."

"He's a little ball of rage." Jason raised his voice. 

"And he's getting better, no thanks to your teasing. So go right your wrong before it gets out of hand." Bruce pointed out the door. Jason skulked out. Bruce took a moment to calm himself down before going to join Clark in the kitchen.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silena is a huge gossip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cw: References to past sexual assault, brief mention of childhood neglect
> 
> Tw: The terms sexual assault, sex crime, and date rape. 
> 
> This is an overarching theme of the chapter, so I can't cut any discussions out for yall. But I tried to be as delicate as possible.

Clark was at his favorite little cafe in Gotham when he saw an almost familiar girl enter. Her blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, her bangs swooped gently back, almost like finger waves. She wore a tight, knee-length, black, polka-dot, dress that contoured around her bust, like a Pinup model. She wore a big fur coat that hung around her elbows and red heels. She was awfully dressed up for a visit to the cafe. She caught Bruce's eye and smized at him. 

She got her coffee and sat across from him, slipped her coat off as she did so. Her eyeliner was a bit dramatic for Clark's taste, especially with her cateye glasses, but her red lips were a perfect touch.

"Clark Kent, right? I'm Silena Kyle, I don't know if you remember me." She held out her hand. Her long acrylic nails were a deadly shade of red and pointed like claws.

"Bruce's PA?" Clark asked hesitantly as he shook her hand. She clapped once and smiled.

"Yes, exactly. I'm just out running some errands for the office while Bruce is between meetings." She said, "But I can spare a moment to talk with you. That old man doesn't tell me a thing."

Clark shifted in his seat uncomfortably, "What do you want to know?"

"Everything. I know your first date wasn't perfect, but obviously, that didn't stop you. Have you been to his house? Does he buy you expensive gifts? Is he good in bed? My two best friends are dating now and I get no gossip at all from them." She pouted. Clark blinked at her. 

"Oh, well, uh. I've been to the manor and the penthouse. He hasn't yet, but he's offered. And why do you care how good he is in bed?" Clark said. He didn't want to be mean, but if Bruce wanted to be a private person he would respect that. At least when it came to people close to him. His late-night phone calls spilling all the details to Diana didn't count.

Silena huffed, "If you won't tell me about Bruce, then tell me about you. You're from Kansas, what brought you to Gotham? What's your mom like? How long have you liked Brucie? First impressions of the kids?"

"I grew up on a wheat farm in Kansas. I actually live in Metropolis, but I'm scoping out locations for my friend's engagement photos and I like the Gotham architecture. But I left the farm to go to college. I got an English degree thinking I wanted to be a novelist, but journalism caught me before I could write a novel." Clark explained. Silena listened intently, "My mom sends me sweaters she makes for me, I love her to death."

"What do you think of the kids?" She asked again, bouncing slightly in her chair. 

"Dick is both one of the smartest, most ambitious, passionate kids I've ever seen and the dumbest and clumsiest. I don't know Jason very well, but he seems to be hanging in some not great crowds. Tim is a sweetheart and a mad genius. Damian is just kind of odd, which I hear is because he grew up in a weird situation." Clark said. Silena nodded. 

"Do you know what happened with Damian?" She asked she put her fingertips gently on Clark's hand for a moment before placing her hand on her chest as she grinned.

"I know his mom did some pretty awful stuff to Bruce to get pregnant, and I know Damian was born in Cairo and lived there until a few years ago." Clark said with a shrug. He remembered watching Damian play with his sheep as if he'd never learned how to play. 

"Did you know his mom is Talia al Ghul?" Silena smirked. Clark opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He blinked and shook his head. The daughter of the largest name in the middle east. An insanely powerful name that withdrew funding for the Wayne foundation 12 years ago. Clark didn't know what to say. Damian was a prince. And not a prince by name alone like the royal family in England. He was a prince by power, money, heritage.

"Talia-she-but-" 

"It was a big conspiracy to bankrupt the Wayne's. They wanted to accuse Brucie of forcefully taking her virginity or something and Damian was the proof. It was a whole thing, they were gonna come out with all these demands and shove the kid onto Bruce to show that he's traumatized and a bad parent, so why let him lead such a major company. But, Dick completely ruined the plans. So they were stuck with this kid no one wanted." Silena explained.

"I had no idea. Bruce really hated talk-"

"He never talks sweetie. He's like a shark. It's impossible to move backward, but if he stops moving, he'll die. So he just pushes forward." Silena explained.

"I'm guessing Damian wasn't treated very well." Clark stared down at his coffee. 

"No. Not abused really. It was a very traditional Middle Eastern home, so Talia could get away with more. But, more than anything, he was neglected. They kept him alive and that's about it." Silena said, "I need a smoke. Join me?"

"I don't smoke. Besides I should head out and do some writing. But I think you and my friend, Diana, would get along." Bruce scribbled her phone number out on a napkin and handed it to her, "Call her for book club or whatever you're into."

~*~

Clark thought about what Silena had said. This was exactly the kind of thing Bruce would use to bring light to a larger issue. He talked about his parents all the time when he was dealing with foster care, or crime rates, or law enforcement. That must be hard talking about, it must hurt in a way Clark couldn't even pretend to imagine. But Bruce did, so why didn't he talk about Cairo? Why downplay it like he was? He could make waves in ending sex crimes. And he didn't. He just stayed quiet. 

He bit his lip, his heart raced as he pulled out his phone to text Bruce. He felt dirty like he'd gone behind Bruce's back. Thinking about admitting he knew what happened felt like swallowing a rock.

**Silena told me everything about what happened in Cairo. I wish I knew what to say. I'm sorry.**

Bruce took a long time to respond. Clark turned to Google. He typed in 'Bruce Wayne sexual assault' which came up nearly empty. A few scattered internal initiatives to prevent things, an abandoned project to make date rape drug detection devices, one clickbait article. He searched 'Bruce Wayne Cairo' to see what would come up. One single article that was relevant and reliable.

"Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises meets with Ra's al Ghul to discuss the possible withdrawal of the numerous shares the family owns. Wayne returned from his trip abroad early Monday morning, however, all attempts to schedule an interview have been turned down by the Wayne family butler, Alfred Pennyworth. He claims that Wayne is 'quite exhausted' and will contact us when he is rested. What is known is that the al Ghul family has withdrawn all funding they previously provided to Wayne Enterprises and has instead invested that money into LexCorp, a major competitor of Wayne."

Clark felt gross after reading that. He couldn't pinpoint why, maybe that he just knew what this author didn't. He knew why Bruce was so exhausted. His heart pounded in his chest like a jackhammer when he heard his phone buzz. 

_Was in a meeting. Silena is a terrible gossip, but she's pretty accurate._

**Why don't you talk about it? You could change the lives of so many people. You could reopen a whole conversation about it. That's your personal mission statement. I don't want to pressure you, I just want to know the reasoning.**

_Because it's not my conversation to have. It's a women's problem, and they should have a right to initiate the conversation_

**But it's obviously not just hurting women. And a lot of the advocacy is trying to get the message across that it's not just women**

_I have nothing helpful to contribute and that's the end of this conversation_

Clark sighed. Bruce was more stubborn than Pickles the donkey. That old boy didn't budge with 4 men pulling at his lead. 

_Let me know if you still want to fly out to Kansas for Thanksgiving. I'm more than happy to come with, we can bring the kids if you want, or I can just send you out on your own._

Clark blushed. 

**I'd love to bring the whole family along. I'll call and talk to Mom**

He called his mom. He had been meaning to talk to her anyway, but now he had a real reason to talk. 

"Hello Clark. It's so good to hear from you." She said. Clark could hear her smile, "How have you been?" 

"I've been doing alright. I actually called about Thanksgiving." Clark said, "My boyfriend wanted to fly everyone out to Kansas to meet you. It would be him, his four kids, and maybe his godfather. He also offered to leave them home and just be me and him."

"Oh my, I don't know if we'll have room for so many. We've got your old room, the guest room, and my craft room. It'll be a snug fit." She explained. She sounded exasperated already. 

"They don't all have to come, it could just be him and me." Clark reminded her.

"Oh but what's the fun in that. Bring the whole crew, it sounds like he has a whole circus to worry about. And I would love to meet my new little grandkids." She squealed. Clark rolled his eyes. 

"It's been a month. They're not grandkids yet." Clark told her.

"Oh I know, but let me pretend. But I don't even know the nice fellow's name yet." She said. Clark sighed. He could tell his mom. Right? Bruce told the whole world about his boyfriend. Clark could tell his mom. 

"Promise not to get worked up about it. It's not a big deal." He explained to her. She laughed, "I'm dating Bruce Wayne."

He held the phone away from his ear while she screamed into it, shouting strings of nonsense. She stammered trying to collect herself, "He's so much older, and you know, rich people like that are just not trustworthy, and that man has just been through hell and back, he can't be mentally stable. And with four kids. How do you manage that?"

"Well, Mom. He's actually pretty nice. He has no concept of what money is, but he's really sweet. He has a rescued cow. He can be kind of stubborn and distant sometimes, but generally, he's attentive and generous and understanding. He's a really good guy." Clark said. He believed it with all his heart. Bruce was good to him.

"Oh but losing your parents like that isn't good for you. What if he gets angry and loses his temper?"

"The only incident we've had was my fault, I provoked him. And he didn't get angry, he just sort of withdrew. But his oldest son talked to him for a couple of minutes, told me what I could do next time, and he was fine again." Clark explained, "All his kids have some level of trauma, and his godfather was an army doctor, so I'm sure that was hard on him. They know what to do and they support each other." 

"I don't know. It seems odd."

"Trust me. You'll like him. And you'll love the kids. They're wonderful." Clark told her.

"Bring them all out, but they might need to share rooms if they stay here. I don't know if they could handle it in such close contact." She laughed. Clark smiled.

"I'll talk to him." He said, "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, Clark. Tell Bruce I said hello."

"I will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm bored out of my mind. Come be my friend lmao
> 
> Insta: @peach_n_creamm  
> Snapchat: @nicole16444 (it's a dead name and an old account)


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kent family vacation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually went through and like, sort of edited the past chapters. Dyslexia and writing on my phone at 4am are maybe not the best mix to make a perfect work of writing. Look at me go, being good at things.

Bruce and Clark loaded up bags on the plane. Alfred decided he would say home and keep house while the others were gone. The kids were already assigned bedtime partners, Bruce and Clark would share a room, Dick and Jason could share, and that left Damian and Tim. That wasn't ideal since Tim didn't always have a filter on and Damian was a sensitive kid. But if problems arose, he was sure he could force someone out to the couch, or Damian could come sleep with him and Clark. It would be a good trip. They'd be gone for a week, so if he could just keep everyone sane, then that was all he could ask for. 

Clark stared in amazement at the joys of a private plane. The pilot was Luke Fox, the son of the Waynes' long term family friend. Tim sat in the cockpit and very politely asked how everything worked. Dick lounged sideways in his seat and read Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde to Damian sitting on the floor. Jason had a pair of headphones on and played on his switch. Bruce asked Clark about his family,

"Well, I've got Mom and Pa on the farm. They're farm folk, I'm pretty sure they still have a landline. They have a yellow lab named Krypto that Pa keeps saying he'll take out Beaman hunting." Clark said.

"Beaman?" Bruce asked. He had never heard of such a thing before.

"Yeah, he's essentially bigfoot, but in Kansas. Legend says he's either an escaped gorilla from the circus in 1920 something, or he's the son of the escaped gorilla." Clark explained, "His real target is Sinkhole Sam, who's like a big worm that lives in this lake, but he can't take the dog fishing." 

"We can just take him home to Jersey and let him hunt down the Jersey Devil, that's the real grand prize," Bruce said. When Dick was still an only child, Bruce took him out to look for the Jersey Devil. It was all just for show, and he was sure Dick knew, but it was still fun to wander through the woods at twilight. He remembered Dick giggling whenever they heard an owl. He'd climb up the trees and make sure they could still see the way back. Once he yelled catch me and dropped down from the branches. He had scared Bruce half to death, but he caught him. 

"I've got two cousins named Connor, one is Connor with an O from Pa's family and the other is Conner with an E from Mom's. Jon is Conner with an E's little brother. I have a biological cousin named Kara, but I don't know her very well. She lives out in Indiana." Clark said. 

"I forgot you were adopted. I think Tim and Damian are friends with your cousins." Bruce said.

"Yeah, the Clarkes live in Gotham. I think Connor and his parents are in Metropolis." Clark nodded. 

"Hey, Dick. Which one do you go to school with? The one you said was very strong?" Bruce looked over at his son. More just to tease him than anything else.

"Oh god." Dick sighed loudly and stopped reading. He turned around in his seat and pulled off Jason's headphones, "Fuck you, Jason."

"Dick!" Bruce scolded, "Little ears."

"Dad, I know what fuck is. I'm not oblivious." Damian said calmly. Bruce just held his head in his hands.

"Tim's my favorite of the day," Bruce announced. Everyone slumped back in their seats in disappointment. Tim ran into the cabin. 

"Dad, Luke taught me how to hijack a plane." Tim bounced excitedly, 

"Jason, you're my new favorite," Bruce told him.

"Nice. Take that circus twink."

"Why me? I haven't been his favorite since last Tuesday." Dick pouted.

~*~

Bruce started to unload the boy's bags from the car. As he handed each kid their bag, he saw an elderly woman run outside. She had thick square glasses Bruce hadn't seen since the 80s and short, curly gray hair. She smiled at the gathering and hugged her son, kissing him on the cheek. She gave Bruce a quick hug and introduced herself.

"My mother's name was Martha too. I'm pleased to meet you." Bruce smiled politely at her. 

"Oh, that's right, I completely forgot. I can hardly believe how shocked I was reading the paper that morning, that was even before Clark came about. How time flies. John, come help with these bags." She called inside and turned to the boys, "Now tell me all your names and how old you are. My old eyes can't tell anymore."

The boys all introduced themselves while an old man wandered outside. He was almost entirely bald and thin as a beanpole. His flannel shirt hung loosely on his skinny shoulders. He tipped his hat to Bruce and took the suitcases inside. He said he'd just set everything in the hall upstairs and let them distribute it themselves. 

"Now tell me all of your favorite foods so I can be sure to make them for you," Martha asked as she rushed everyone inside. She sat them all down in the living room. Her couches were covered in pretty crocheted doilies. She had a china cabinet full of small glass figurines shaped like birds and porcelain dolls. She had several Precious Moments figurines modeled after little angels. Framed embroidery of pastel flowers and bible quotes hung on the walls. A cross hung above the little TV. Bruce's Jewish ass hadn't seen this much Christianity since the time he did a report on Salem in 9th grade. 

"I like sweet potato stew." Tim hopped up and raised his hand. Everyone else sat awkwardly, not knowing what to tell this woman who almost definitely had never heard of any of their favorite foods. 

"Hey, Ma. Most of them aren't from American families. Their favorite food is probably something you don't know how to make." Clark tapped on her shoulder. Martha nodded.

"Okay, if you can help make it, then I'll happily learn for you." Martha grinned, the kids all shrugged.

"Syrniki." Dick said with a smile, "Cheesy Russian pancakes. Mom used to make them for me all the time."

"So we've got dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow. You can come with me to the store and pick up ingredients. And don't you worry Clark, I've got everything for beef stew. Damian I hear is a vegetarian, so I can make some without the meat just for you. That way I can finally put both my crockpots to use." She clapped her hands together, "What about you three?"

"Wedding cookies," Jason responded.

"Basbousa," Damian said quietly. Bruce heard him mention basbousa several times. He kept meaning to make it for him, but never got around to it. 

"I've never heard of that." She blinked.

"It's a cake with almonds and honey and yogurt and stuff. It's really good." His eyes lit up. Martha smiled. 

"What would you like Bruce?"

"Don't worry about me, I'm not picky." He shook his head.

"I will worry about you, what do you want me to make?" Martha insisted.

"It's called mulligatawny. It's Indian." Bruce said. He loved soup. Mom used to make him matzo ball soup, Alfred made him French onion soup, his travels to East Asia made him fall in love with ramen, and eventually, India introduced him to curry lentil soup with apples. Why apples? He had no idea, but it was good.

"Oh, John loves Indian food, he'll like that. Tim, Dick, go get settled in your rooms and then come shopping with me." She shooed them away, "I'll take the rest of you tomorrow and it'll be just grand."

~*~

"Mom always said that farmer cheese was the best. But we were circus performers, and farmer's cheese was too hard to find and we didn't have time to make it. So she would press out her own cottage cheese." Dick said.

"What do you put on cheesy pancakes?" Martha asked. Dick liked Martha. She was a happy old woman who just wanted to knit and cook and make everyone happy. He'd loved to go out for brunch and gossip with her about the neighbors that lived a mile and a half away.

"Mom liked honey and apples. Dad liked sour cream. My favorite was yogurt and blueberries. You could put syrup on it. Whatever you want." Dick shrugged. 

"You know, I think we have a Slavic market in town. Do you want to go look for farmer's cheese?" She asked. Dick's eyes lit up. He'd always wanted to try it with farmers cheese.

"I wanna go to a Slavic market," Tim exclaimed with a grin, "I wanna know how to speak Russian. How do you say Russian in Russian? Damian said Arabic in Arabic is Eurbaa."

"Russki." Dick told him, " And hi is privyet."

"Cool." Tim nodded.

Once they'd collected all of Tim's ingredients, Martha drove them to the Slavic market and let Dick lead the way. Almost everything was written in Russian, so Dick was the only one who knew his way around. He found the cheese very quickly. The cashier spoke broken English at best, so Dick used Russian to check out. He asked his favorite way to eat syrniki, he responded with melted butter and cherry preserves. Tim waved and said hello in Russian with a thick American accent. The cashier smiled and nodded as they walked out.

"How do I say goodbye?" Tim asked.

"Paka," Dick told him. Tim waved and told him goodbye. Dick smiled.

~*~

They all sat around the table eating sweet potato stew and talking. Martha had insisted on getting to know her new family. Her dining room windows were framed by obnoxious plaid curtains. Her yellow tablecloth was decorated with flowers and bees along the hem. Krypto sat with his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, waiting patiently for someone to give him scraps.

"How would you like to go out and help milk the cows in the morning?" John asked Damian, "Young boy like you should get out and do some real work."

"I'd love to. How many cows do you have? Do the cows have names? Do you guys drink your own milk? Do you keep all the milk?" Damian asked. His face beamed with joy at the thought of the cows.

"We've got three cows, a bull, and a calf. I'll introduce you tomorrow. We keep all our own milk." John said with a shrug, "When that's done, Clark, could you help me out on the old chevy in the barn? Still trying to get her up and running."

"Can I help?" Tim asked, "I hotwired Dad's car last year and fixed Dick's car when the wiring got chewed on by a rabbit." 

"You hotwired your father's car?" Martha asked.

"He sure did." Bruce sighed, "I have no idea how he learned, but he did hotwire my car and I will be forever thankful we live in the country and we weren't at the penthouse when you did that. You didn't crash and I just had to pay someone to put in new grass." 

"I suppose you can tag along then," John said. Tim grinned. 

"That means Dick and Jason get to help me cook tomorrow." Martha said with a warm smile, "Bruce, you can help too."

"I can't wait Mrs. Kent." Bruce smiled.

"You're family now, call me mom." She winked. Bruce chuckled. 

~*~

Bruce had finally gotten the kids settled down into their own rooms. He'd assured Damian he could always come and let him know if he needed anything. He'd pulled Clark down as he collapsed on the bed. He held him tightly while Clark made a feeble attempt to struggle out of his grip.

"No. Sleep time," Bruce said, Clark giggled and kissed him, "Ugh, fine I'll get back up."

"We still have our shoes on," Clark told him. Bruce looked around Clark's childhood bedroom. Baseball posters decorated the walls, he had a framed display of baseball cards framed on his wall. He had dozens of pictures thumbtacked up. On his walls. Pictures of him and his parents, birthday parties, a picture of Martha and John holding a bundle of baby Clark, a drawing that was signed Clark 8. Bruce walked over and looked at it. A man with big huge muscles in a blue suit with a red superhero cape was shooting a bunch of angry-looking guys in black and white prison outfits and money bags with red lasers. 

"I made that when I was eight. That's supposed to be me I think." Clark said. Bruce smiled, "I used to be so fascinated with who my real parents were. It was some policy the adoption agency had, I couldn't ever find out. So I made up this ridiculous story about my family."

"What's the story?" Bruce asked. 

"My parents were actually aliens and they sent me down to earth as their planet was being blown up. So I had all these secret superpowers that I was gonna unlock one day. I had super strength, and I could fly, and I had laser vision, and I was immune to bullets, and I had super hearing. And I was gonna beat up all the bad guys in the world." Clark explained, "You're far too logical to dream up a wild story like that though."

"There was a while of me being frustrated with the police academy where I was convinced I was going to work outside the law and take down criminals on my own. And as a kid, I wanted nothing more than to kill whoever mugged us. But I outgrew those ideas pretty quick." Bruce shrugged. Clark squeezed his hand gently. 

"They never found out who did it, did they?" Clark asked quietly. Bruce shook his head. 

"No, but karma will catch up to him I'm sure." He said. He could feel rage bubbling deep in his chest, but he took deep breaths to keep himself from boiling over. Clark tugged on the hem of Bruce's shirt. 

"Come on, it's time for bed. I call big spoon." Clark told him with a small kiss. Bruce sighed and leaned into the kiss. They undressed quickly, Bruce slipped on a pair of pajama pants.

"Are those cats in spacesuits?" Bruce asked, pointing to Clark's ass. Clark looked down and blushed.

"Shut up, us poor people can't have an underwear drawer full of only good underwear. But they're so comfortable, so it's fine." Clark shrugged. Bruce rolled his eyes. 

"Do you want an underwear drawer with only good underwear. Because all you have to do is ask." Bruce reminded him, "Anything you want."

"What I want right now, is to snuggle in bed with my rich boyfriend and maybe go home to a job that pays me enough money." Clark said as he wrapped his arms around his neck. 

"Are you having money problems?" Bruce asked him, Clark sighed. 

"Not yet. I have enough savings right now. And I'm sure that I'll be able to grab a publishable article soon. LexCorp was a bust. He just talked about being a republican for an hour. He can do that, I couldn't care less, but I didn't ask about politics. I asked about his work with the military." Clark groaned.

"Well, you did just happen upon a very juicy bit of news about me a couple of weeks ago. Call Silena, she can remain anonymous, and then you have an official statement." Bruce said with a shrug. 

"That's not exactly business news. Without any real proof, it's just gossip." Clark shook his head. 

"So talk to Alfred. I won't say a word about it, but Alfred knows what happened." Bruce shrugged. 

"That feels slimy, I don't know. Staging something that big?" Clark bit his lips. Bruce kissed him softly to make him stop. 

"I could also just pay your rent for you. Or you could move into the penthouse. Or I could make another big scene for you to jump on." Bruce said with a shrug. Clark sighed.

"You don't have to pay my rent, my dear." Clark said. 

"Oh my god, let me take care of you." Bruce said and kissed him again, "Let me buy you terrible designer clothes and stupid fancy coffee makers."

"No. Come to bed and let me smell your hair while I fall asleep." Clark pulled him back toward the bed, "Tell me what you think of my parents."

They collapsed together back on the bed. Bruce snuggled up close to Clark and let himself be held.

"I have never been in a place with so much Jesus. But Martha is sweet, she seems like a good mom. John seems like a good sturdy man who likes to work hard." Bruce nodded. Clark giggled. 

"I bet Mom has already started knitting you all sweaters." He pulled him closer, "She's desperate for grandkids. My ex and I dated for six years and she asked at every opportunity when we were gonna have kids."

"Now she has four." Bruce tilted his head up to kiss Clark.

~*~

Bruce didn't know what time it was, but it was dark out. Clark's arm was heavy around his waist, his glasses sat on the nightstand. He heard Damian's quiet voice from the darkness. 

"I had a nightmare. Can I come lay in here for a while?" He asked. Bruce elbowed Clark as gently as he could. Clark groaned. 

"Scoot over. Damian had a nightmare." Bruce's words slurred with sleep. Clark moved back and pulled Bruce along with him. Bruce lifted the blanket up to invite him into bed, "You've got cow?" 

"Yeah." Damian said, "Thanks. Sorry I act like a little kid all the time."

"Its okay sweetheart. You didn't get to be a little kid before now. I'm really proud of you." Bruce felt himself drifting off to sleep, holding his son as close as he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recipes I Found on the Internet:  
> [Syrniki](https://www.babaganosh.org/syrniki-russian-cheese-pancakes/)  
> [Mexican Wedding Cookies](https://www.mexicoinmykitchen.com/mexican-wedding-cookies-recipe/)  
> [Basbousa](https://amiraspantry.com/basbousa/)  
> [Mulligatawany](https://www.theharvestkitchen.com/vegetarian-mulligatawny/)  
> I don't have a recipe for sweet potato stew since that's something my Grandma makes me and her recipe is "I don't know, sweet potatoes, tomatoes, beef stock, throw some beef in there, onions, carrots, garlic, some salt, just throw it together. I usually pour it over brown rice or barley."
> 
> Also, my apologies if these are not accurate to places. I tried to find recipes by people that are actually from those places. I know Mexican food pretty well, but that's really all the context I have. I know wedding cookies aren't the most Mexican thing, but I didn't want to just say tacos or tamales or something, especially since Jason was probably on his own for food most of the time. So wedding cookies.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Farm life.

"Alright Damian, this here is Sweetpea. She's our only cow milking right now and right now we're just waiting for her to wean off her calf before winter." John worked on bringing Sweetpea up onto a special ramp. He gently clamped around her neck with two pieces of wood, just to keep her from backing up. Damian watched intently with a big bucket full of tools in his arms. 

"Can I pet her?" Damian asked. 

"Sure, come pet her neck while I get her cleaned up." John said. Damian beamed and pet her soft fur. She was a pretty tan color with big black eyes and long fluttery eyelashes. Damian loved her. He wanted to bring Cow to meet her, but he didn't want him to get too dirty.

John wiped her down and set up a big bucket with a piece of fine mesh cloth as a strainer. He held a smaller bucket while he tested her milk.

"Come here and let me show you what to do." He told Damian, "So wrap your thumb and forefinger around right here, like you're pinching off the milk. Then, you're gonna wrap your other fingers around and squeeze. Be gentle, you don't want to pull on the old girl and hurt her."

He took Damian's hand and helped him make the motions before letting him try on his own, "Like that?"

"Perfect. Now, her calf gets the front quarters just fine, so we just need her back. You're gonna head over to the other side and work there. When the little bucket is full, I'll dump it into this bigger bucket." John explained.

Damian walked around the cow and worked on milking. It took a long time, but it was fun. She only tried to kick the little bucket over once, but John caught it before it could tip over. Damian wasn't sure how long they milked for, but soon they had a full bucket of milk and the cow was back out to pasture.

Inside, Dick and Martha were making pancakes. They were rolling thick little disks in flour before frying them in the skillet. 

"Now explain how you broke your back." Martha said while she cooked. 

"I was practicing aerial silks and I lost my grip and fell I think 15 feet. I'm going back to the doctor when we get home to see how soon I can get back to it." Dick explained. John had set the milk pail on the kitchen table and kissed his wife good morning. 

"Thank you dear. Could you get the milk strained for me? You can just leave it in the fridge until we can get it jarred up." Martha told him, "What's aerial silks?"

"It's a kind of acrobatics where you hang these two really long pieces of fabric from the ceiling and you climb up and dance with them. I have a video from before the accident if you'd like to see." Dick said. He wiped off his hands and pulled out his phone. He tapped around for a while before he found the video of the time he performed Life on Mars. Martha gasped as she watched him climb up like a monkey, hold his weight, spin, tie himself up, and hang by his feet in time to the crooning of David Bowie. He finished his act by rolling himself up and letting himself fall, nearly hitting the floor, and pulling himself up into the splits. 

"That's the most amazing thing. You just let yourself fall. Aren't you afraid up there? There's no net or anything?" Martha asked.

"No. I like it. I like being up high. I like being able to preform." Dick said with a shrug, "I think breakfast is ready. Damian, do you want to go wake Dad up? And let Tim know, I think he's awake, just not down here yet."

Damian nodded and walked upstairs. He told Tim to come down through the wood of the door and moved on. He knocked quietly on his dad's door. Clark answered it, his hair was messy, and he had on a pair of jeans and a half buttoned shirt.

"Sorry kido. Your dad isn't really a morning person." Clark said. Bruce was still sleeping soundly, bundled up in homemade quilts. 

"I know." Damian strolled in and crawled up on the bed behind Bruce. He shoved his dad hard and made him roll off the bed with a loud thud. Bruce groaned, "Dick made breakfast."

"Gimme ten minutes." Bruce took a deep breath. 

"He's up now." Damian told Clark as he walked back downstairs. Martha looked very concerned at the loud noise. 

"Dad's awake." Dick smiled. Damian nodded.

The pancakes were heavenly little pockets of sweet cheesy goodness. Dick ate two servings of them with a big smile on his face. Martha and John both seemed to love them. Bruce was still a little grogy, but he was managing. 

"Bruce, what do you actually do for work. What does CEO entail?" John asked. Bruce blinked a few times, waiting for his brain to catch up. 

"I do a lot of paperwork. Silena is my PA and she does all my scheduling. So I meet with people, I do focus testing, I work with all the numbers to see where we can tweak things to be more efficient or profitable, I cut through all the red tape." Bruce explained. John nodded. 

"How did you and Clark meet?" Martha asked.

"Clark came in for an interview and left his phone number with me. And then Silena stood on my desk and forced me to call him, because I'm oblivious." Bruce explained. Clark blushed, "It comes with the old money."

"I went in fully intending on just interviewing you about flu vaccines or something." Clark insisted. Bruce smirked. 

~*~

Bruce had sat and talked with Clark in his room for a while. And by talked, he mostly meant furiously made out. But he'd put himself back together and came down to the kitchen to see Dick, Jason, and Martha all recording a TikTok. He waited until they finished recording before he spoke up. 

"What are you doing?" Bruce asked his sons. 

"She asked to be in a TikTok," Dick shrugged, "And Jason is already all over my account so why not let him join in."

"Where are the boys?" 

"Tim is outside working on the car with John, and Damian is processing with Sheep in his room." Dick explained, "Do you want to be in one?" 

"I may have been a Newsie in my youth, but middle age has stripped me of most my physical abilities." Bruce deadpanned. Dick rolled his eyes. 

"Can we give you a makeover then?" Dick grinned. Bruce scoffed. 

"Maybe when we get home." He told them, "Jason, what are you wearing?"

"A crop top and a fishnet shirt?" Jason looked down at his ensemble.

"Yes. It's November, go put on something warmer." Bruce sent him upstairs, "Dick how's your back?" 

"Feels fine. I have the brace upstairs if I need it." He said with a smile. Bruce nodded. 

"I should get back to cooking for tomorrow anyway dear. Dick, we have puzzles and checkers in that closet if you need some entertainment. Bruce come help me make pie." She waved him over to the kitchen.

"I've never made pie before. I'm not much of a baker." Bruce admitted. He'd never needed to. Alfred had such a passion for baking, he would jump at every opportunity. He was lucky to have Alfred. 

"Pie is easy, dear. Pumpkin can be tricky if you don't know what you're doing, but we're making apple so you'll be just fine." She told him. Bruce washed his hands and Martha forced an apron over his head and tied it around his waist, "Flour is messy."

She handed him a couple sticks of melted butter and told him to chop it up while she pulled the rest of her ingredients out, "The secret to good apple pie crust is applejack."

Martha set a bottle of alcohol on the counter, the glass was frosty from being in the freezer, but the liquid hadn't frozen. She mixed together flour and salt before adding Bruce's butter to the food processor.

"You want it to look like wet sand before we add the brandy." She told him. She poured in about a shot of brandy and mixed it up. A little more, mix it up. A little flour. And finally, she turned it out on the counter and kneaded it into a flat disk of dough, "We want everything to stay very cold so we get those nice pockets of butter we want."

She twisted her little chicken shaped egg timer to ring in 30 minutes. The base was decorated with little chicks chasing after their momma chicken.

"You adopted all your kids when they were a little older didn't you? Do you think you'd ever adopt a little one?" Martha asked. Bruce smiled to himself. 

"Maybe. It'll be after Dick moves out for sure. Ideally I'd be able to be there for Damian and not find out he existed when he was already seven." Bruce said with a shrug. Martha nodded. 

"John and I tried to have our own. We tried all the old wives tales, we saw the doctors, everything we could. After my miscarriage we thought all hope was lost. Clark was our little miracle." Martha beamed. Bruce smiled, "Do you think it's easier or harder with older kids?"

"Depends. Dick and Tim were a breeze. Dick had a bit of a language barrier, since he spoke almost exclusively Russian with his family, but he was a fast learner and caught on quick. Jason and Damian were rough, they still are, but I feel like we're making really good progress." Bruce explained.

"Why were they so much harder?" Martha asked. 

"Jason came from a bad home. His dad was an illegal immigrant and couldn't work. His mom was hardly home. There wasn't much nurturing happening." Bruce explained. He left out the minor detail of all Jason's bruises when they first met, how he testified against his own father with a black eye, "Damian's mom just didn't want him. It was a really messy situation and he ended up just sort of forgotten."

"He never grew out of his baby phase? So he just screamed and hit and kicked until he got what he wanted?" Martha asked. Bruce nodded. 

"He's doing a lot better. He's taking karate, I'm looking for councilors, we got him a cat, we're working when we can. His stuffed animals help a lot. I'm so lucky I can actually get him what he needs." Bruce said with a sigh. Martha smiled. They talked for a while. Farm life, raising kids, Clark's fairy tale daydreaming, pets.

A loud ding rang out in the room. 

"Oh, we get to roll out the pie crust." Martha cheered. She took the dough out o DC the fridge and set Bruce to work rolling it out into a thin sheet. Tim sprinted up to Bruce.

"Dad, we fixed the car. And John let me drive it a little bit. And the gas line wasn't hooked to the ignition right and there was a fluid leak. But we fixed it and it works and I got to sand off some of the old rust so John can paint it again." Tim said. He was covered in smeared grease and sanding dust. The motor oil and rust mixed in his hair to gel it up in all different directions. 

"Nice job. Now go wash off all that hard work before you get grease in the pie." Bruce told him. Tim nodded and hurried upstairs. Clark slid up next to Bruce.

"What kinda pie?" Clark asked with a smirk. His arms were streaked with black, and a smear of oil decorated his cheek. 

"You've got something on your face." Bruce told him, Clark smiled and rolled his eyes. 

"Come on, I didn't know you could bake." Clark nudged lightly. 

"I can't. But your mother is teaching me about apple pie." Bruce told him. 

"I can't wait to try it. I'm going to take a shower and I'll be back." Clark kissed his cheek softly and followed Tim upstairs. Bruce saw Martha smiling at him. 

"You're so sweet." She said and stepped over for a hug. Bruce didn't think he had done anything special, but he wouldn't turn down Martha and another hug. 

She helped him roll the pie dough out over the pie plate and docked it to blind bake. She lined the pie with foil and filled it with dried beans. Bruce peeled and cut the apples while the pie crust baked. Martha mixed some spices together, tasted her mix, added some more, a shake of something else, until she finally felt satisfied. She poured her mixture over the slices apples and swirled them around in the bowl to make sure it was all coated. 

"Did I tell you your brother is coming tomorrow?" Martha asked her husband. 

"Your brother has Connor with an O?" Bruce asked. John nodded. 

"You let me know. Connor is a good kid. Isn't he about Dick's age?" John asked Martha. 

"I think so. He might be a little older." She replied, "Oh yes because Joe decided to hold him back and start kindergarten late. So he's a year older or so."

Bruce took out his phone to send a quick text to his son. 

_Your fling is gonna be here tomorrow. Good luck._

~*~

"Fuck." Dick swore when he saw the text. Jason rested his head on Dick's shoulder to read the screen. He burst out laughing. 

"That's what you get for being a slut." Jason teased. 

"It was a one time thing and I was weak. I was horny and he had just finished football practice." Dick defended. 

"You fucked in the locker room." Jason reminded him. 

"And it was good sex and now I have a boyfriend and I can't have another go at him." Dick pouted. Jason laughed. 

"I need a smoke so bad, but I didn't bring any cigarettes." Jason groaned, "Do you wanna drive out with me and buy me some?" 

"Smoking is gonna kill you. Why don't you be a real teenage and just get a juul?" Dick asked, "It smells a hell of a lot better than cigarettes."

"Because I can't steal juul pods as easily." Jason shrugged. Dick sighed. 

"You're still on probation, so no. I can another time." He said, "Pay attention to my problems."

Jason made an exaggerated groan as he slumped down almost off the bed, "But your problems are so boring."

"I don't care. Wally has been busy and I'm an attention whore. Make my boyfriend pay attention to me so I don't consider cheating on him with Clark's cousin." Dick said. Jason sat up so he could look down at Dick.

"If you want attention, go get attention. You're loud, you're obnoxious, and most importantly, you're thirsty for that cock." Jason told him. 

"But Wally is so far away and I don't know how to make him thirsty for Dick." He pouted. 

"You know exactly how. You're built like a Greek God with a better ass, and you're such a fucking airhead that you can tease the hell out of him and act oblivious to it all. And you've got me, your ace little brother who's here to see you succeed."Jason told him. Dick giggled.

"Can you help take pictures of my ass?" Dick bat his eyelashes.

"Of course I will, because you deserve to get laid." Jason climbed off the bed and the pair got to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What are yalls thoughts on releasing some Spotify playlists for the batfam? Just what sort of music these guys like listening to. Comment below if you're interested.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanksgiving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to get a schedule set up for these updates. I'm thinking Mondays and Fridays. Would you prefer that or Tuesday and Thursday?

"Who all is coming over?" Clark asked his mom. 

"Just Joe's family this year. John is taking Damian out to bring pie to Addie and her husband." Martha told him, "Could you and Bruce get another leaf in the table?" 

"Sure." Clark and Bruce pulled the table apart and slid in another plank of wood to make it longer. Tim helped bring out extra chairs.

"Who's Addie?" Bruce asked. 

"She's this wonderful Kiowa lady, her husband opened the Native American culture center in town. They don't celebrate Thanksgiving, but Mom brings them pie every year with their thank you note. She says it's a peace offering." Clark explained. Bruce nodded. 

"Thank you notes?" Bruce asked.

"I'm sure you'll get your's tonight." Clark shrugged, "She's been doing it my whole life." 

The doorbell rang, and Clark hurried over to answer it. An old bald man stood with his wife. She had thick black hair, curled and pinned out of her face. Standing with them was a muscular boy in a black t-shirt, jeans, a varsity jacket, and sneakers, and a cute redhead girl that looked like she was stuck in 1998. She wore socks with her ballet flats, her pink plaid pencil skirt matched her jacket. Her glitter lip gloss made her lips look wet.

"Hey guys. Who's the girl, Connor?" Clark asked as everyone came inside.

"This is my girlfriend, Meghan." He smiled. Dick slid down the banister with Damian's cow in hand. He caught a glimpse of the bigger boy and his eyes darted between him and his girlfriend. 

"Hi." Dick plastered on an uncomfortable smile, "It's good to see you."

"Yeah, I didn't think you'd be here." Connor looked equally as uncomfortable, "You've got a cow." 

"It's my little brother's. It's leg ripped so I was fixing it for him." Dick explained. He didn't blink, just maintained eye contact, "You have a girlfriend."

"For a little over a year now." Connor nodded. 

"Oh neat. I need to go help Jason with something really quick. I'll be back down in a bit." Dick ran back upstairs. Clark furrowed his brows. 

"That was weird." He whispered to Bruce. 

"I'll tell you later." Bruce responded as he shook Joe's hand, "Bruce. I'm Clark's partner."

"Good to meet you. This is my wife Klaira, and my son Connor." Joe said with a smile, "Is he your's?" 

"Yeah. One of four. I think you and Dick go to school together." Bruce smiled at the boy. He nodded.

"Wow, single dad with four kids. I can't imagine." Joe shook his head. 

"It's a lot, but it's worth it." He felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He knew what the text said without even checking his phone. He needed Clark to take over the conversation, but he didn't want to let the new people know right away he was That Bruce.

"How old are they?" Klaira asked. 

"18, 15, 12, and Damian just turned 11 last month." Bruce said. 

"A set of Irish twins?" She smirked at him. 

"The older three are all adopted." Bruce said politely. She smiled and nodded.

"So how did you get together?" She asked. Clark started talking. This was Bruce's chance. He waited for them to all pay attention to Clark, no one was making eye contact with him. So he slipped away upstairs. Dick was pacing in his room. 

"Dad I fucked up." Dick said. 

"Jason, why don't you go say hello to the new guests." Bruce said. Jason nodded and left the room. Bruce sat at the foot of the bed and held his arms out. Dick sat close so Bruce could wrap him up in a hug, "Tell me what's up."

"Well, I knew Connor was gonna be here and I knew I could act fine and okay. I have a boyfriend now, it's over, it wasn't ever really anything. But then he has a girlfriend, and they've been dating for a year. And I can guarantee that our thing did not happen a year ago. But I didn't know he had a girlfriend. And I'm pretty sure he cheated on her with me and now I feel gross about it and I don't know what to do." Dick rambled. Bruce just let him talk.

"Go let her know. Just do your best to act natural, and talk to her. It's not your fault if you didn't know about her." Bruce told him.

"How do I talk to her without making her think I'm hitting on her?" He asked. 

"Don't flirt with her. Keep it short and simple." Bruce said. Dick nodded, "Deep breaths, I'll meet you downstairs when you're ready."

"Thanks." Dick smiled at him.

~*~

His heart raced as he quietly approached Meghan, "Excuse me. Could I talk to you for just a minute? It'll just be a second I promise."

"Uhm, yeah. I guess so." She looked concerned. Dick made eye contact with his dad, who sent him a silent acknowledgment. All that Dick needed to continue pulling her away from the crowd. 

"When did you and Connor start dating?" Dick asked. 

"Last October."

"Okay, cool. Connor and I sort of slept together back in May. I didn't know he was seeing anyone, and if I did I would never have made a move I swear. I feel really horrible about it and I just wanted to let you know." Dick said. Meghan blinked at him. 

"Connor's straight." She shook her head.

"Not as straight as you thought I guess. I'm so sorry." Dick bit his lips. Meghan sighed and glanced back at Connor. 

"He didn't tell you about me?" She tilted her head. Dick shook his head.

"Honestly, we don't know each other that well. We haven't ever really talked." Dick shrugged. 

"But you-" 

"Yeah. I know. If I'm being totally honest, I've have sex with a lot of different people. Probably more than I really should. So I'm taking part of blame here, I should've thought more clearly." Dick stared at the floor.

"Oh, no. It happens I guess. I'll definitely need to think. Thanks for telling me, do you want to talk sometimes? I can give you my number." She suggested. They swapped phones for a moment and rejoined the group. 

~*~

Dick was acting a lot more normal after his talk with Meghan. He had shown videos of his performances to the table guests during dinner. Bruce noticed Jason gently squealing his hand under the table. Something supportive and small. The pair had always been more affectionate to each other than the others. 

Uncle Joe talked about his chicken business, occasionally eyeing Bruce and Clark sitting across from him. Bruce saw Damian reaching for another helping of sweet potato casserole. 

"Slow down, Damian. Save room for dessert." Bruce told him. He must've eaten three servings by now. 

"Yes, Dad. I guess I missed the sweet potatoes in Cairo more than I realized." He said with a smile.

"You've been to Cairo?" Joe asked.

"I grew up there. I didn't come to America until I was seven." He explained, "All the street vendors would bake sweet potatoes in their carts. And sometimes you could get ice cream and chocolate and caramel and stuff with it."

"Ice cream and sweet potato." Joe hummed, "Interesting."

"Speaking of Cairo, we got your cake made too so you can have that when you're done eating." Martha reminded him. Damian smiled and shoved in more sweet potato and marshmallow. Bruce made a note to get ice cream and sweet potatoes.

"You seem very familiar." Joe told Bruce, "Have we met?" 

"No, but I'm not surprised." Bruce shrugged. Clark gasped. 

"You didn't tell them?" He turned to look at Bruce, "Did you just assume they knew who you were?" 

"It just didn't seem important. I don't know." He said. Clark rolled his eyes.

"He's Bruce Wayne. He owns Wayne Enterprises. He was on with Cormac O'Neal a couple weeks ago." Clark said. Bruce smiled bashfully. 

"Your dad is Bruce Wayne?" Connor turned to Dick, you stared like a deer in the headlights, "Why do you go to high school with me?" 

"Because private school was awful for me. And it was extremely hard on Dick and Jason both. So I gave up on it." Bruce explained, "Public school had been better for all the kids, mentally and socially." 

"Why doesn't anyone know you're a Wayne?" Connor asked.

"My last name is Grayson. I wasn't going to change my name because some rich guy adopted me when I was eight or whatever." Dick explained, "Damian is the only one named Wayne."

"Dad, can I be Annie?" Tim asked. Bruce sighed.

"Only if he shaves his head." Jason responded. 

"I'm not shaving my head." Bruce said.

"What if it's for charity?" Jason asked. 

"Why would I shave my head for charity?" Bruce took a deep breath. 

"For charity, duh." 

~*~

Martha, Klaira, Meghan, and Dick all worked on serving pie and cleaning up. Bruce, Clark, John, and Joe sat around the kitchen table drinking beer. Bruce had a glass of water instead. Jason, Tim, Damian, and Connor sat in the living room putting together a puzzle.

"Clark, whatever happened to you and that nice girl. I liked her." Joe asked. 

"We broke up a couple years ago. We still talk on occasion." He explained, "Besides, I've got Bruce now."

"Who's the woman here?" He asked, glancing between them both. 

"We're both men. We're in a gay relationship. That's generally how they work." Bruce replied calmly. 

"But neither of you seem particularly fruity. Are you sure you're gay?" Joe asked. 

"We're sure." Clark snapped. Bruce put a hand on Clark's knee. 

"You told me you're bisexual, so you're just going to end up liking women again when done with him." Joe told Clark. 

"That's not what that means." Clark threw his hands up, "I want to date Bruce, because I love him and I care about him. In fact I'd say I might love him more than Lois. Because he's sweet and weird and funny and he's such a good dad."

Clark was near yelling now. Bruce held him down to his chair, trying to keep the situation under control, "Let's go for a walk."

Clark stood up aggressively, but silently. Bruce gently guided him outside. He grabbed their jackets on the way out. Clark breathed in the chilly November air. He was blushing and hiding his face in his jacket. 

"Take a few deep breaths." Bruce held his hands. Clark breathed until Bruce felt he'd calmed back down, "You should go apologize." 

"Me? He's the one saying all the bullshit." Clark fumed. 

"I don't care. You escalated a situation that didn't need escalating, so you should apologize." Bruce told him, "It's not a fight worth fighting."

"Every fight is worth fighting." Clark said. Bruce sighed.

"That's just wrong. But let's agree to disagree and move on." Bruce told him. Clark hung his head.

"Fine. But I'm still pissed."

"You can be as angry as you want. Let's go walk around for a while before we head back in." Bruce held his hand. Clark squeazed his hand in defeat. They walked along trails, from building to building. Clark told him stories about growing up on the farm.

The time the tractor get stuck so he got the neighbor's Clydesdale to help pull it out of the mud. The barn they rebuilt after a massive tornado. Playing baseball in the empty fields. Where his old dog was buried before they got Krypto. 

But soon they turned back and came back inside. Pie had come out. Dick and Meghan were laughing and talking. Damian had a piece of cake, he pulled on Bruce's jacket to drag him to the cake. 

"It tastes just like how mom made. You gotta have some." He smiled. 

"I'll have cake but what could you do better next time?" Bruce asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

"Ask nicely and not pull?" Damian said. Bruce nodded.

"Good boy." Bruce said, "Did you finish your puzzle?"

Damian shook his head, "Can you come help?" 

"Sure. Do you want to come?" Bruce turned to Clark. He shrugged and followed with a slice of pie.

~*~

After everyone had left, Martha came up to Bruce's family with a stack of envelopes, each had a name written in curly handwriting on the back, "These are for you boys. This one is your's, Clark."

Bruce waited to open his until he was back in his room with Clark. Inside the envelope was a cream colored greeting card with a pretty blue bird, and thank you written in fancy cursive letters.

_Bruce,_  
_I'm so grateful to welcome you into the family. You're an incredible father, and your heart is full of kindness. Your love, while unconventional, knows no bounds. I can't wait to learn and grow with you as our time together progresses._  
_Ma Kent_

Bruce smiled as he read the letter. Clark climbed into bed next to him, and kissed his cheek. 

"I told you you'd get a thank you note." He snuggled up close to Bruce, "When do you think we should start telling more people about our relationship?"

"Depends. Do you think you'll be able to keep your job?" Bruce asked. 

"I didn't even think of that. I guess it would demolish my journalistic integrity." Clark sighed, "I keep sending them articles and the just reject them. I'm not meeting my requirements for the bonus."

"Clark, sweetheart. I have money. Hell, I've got a penthouse suite that I barely touch. What's your rent like?" Bruce asked. 

"3500 a month with utilities." Clark said quietly.

"That's nothing to me. Let me help. You're not leeching off of me, it's not a handout." Bruce told him. 

"No. You don't need to pay for me Bruce." Clark insisted. 

"But I want to. Please spend my money, I'm begging you. I have so much and I don't know what to do with it." Bruce said. Clark giggled.

"I'm a country boy, I don't need material things. I'm just happy to have you." Clark snuggled into him. Bruce held him close.

"I will find a way to spoil you. I don't know how yet, but I will spoil you rotten." Bruce kissed his forehead. Clark hummed.

"No, but seriously. When should we tell people?" Clark asked. Bruce considered his question. 

"I don't know. My worry, is that one, you'll lose your job, and two, people will decide they hate you and harass you." Bruce said.

"Does that happen?" Clark asked. Bruce nodded. 

"Colleague of mine received death threats." He said. Clark sucked in a breath, "I like to believe people will be nice to you. But we should still be careful. Honestly, you usually don't get a choice in the matter anyway. Someone will snap some pictures and the people will riot and we'll have to come clean." 

"Yeah. Probably." Clark sighed and kissed him, "Try to get to sleep early tonight."

"I'll do my very best. I love you, Clark." Bruce told him. Clark smiled wide as he lay on Bruce's chest.

"I love you too, Bruce."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate that I spelled Klaira like that but there were so many C names and I was getting confused. So I spelled it horrible and bad.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wayne family dog.

It was late. Maybe 11 at night. Bruce should've already been asleep, but he wasn't. He heard the front door opening downstairs. And with two teenage sons, that couldn't mean anything good. Bruce quietly walked the the stairs. He heard Jason loudly whispering something to an unseen someone. The boy jumped when he saw his dad standing at the door way. He tucked his arm behind his back. 

"What are you up to?" Bruce asked. Jason blushed. 

"Nothing at all." He shook his head. Bruce held out his hand. Jason hung his head and handed him a pack of cigarettes. 

"Did Dick take you to the store?" Bruce asked. 

"Yeah." Jason sighed, "But I bribed him so it's not his fault."

"Just go to bed." Bruce almost turned around, but then he heard Dick closer to the door. 

"I could really use a hand, Ja-" He peaked his head inside, "Oh. Hi Dad."

"What's in the car, Dick?" Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. 

"What are you talking about?" Dick asked. Bruce heard a muffled bark from outside. 

"Before you say anything. We were planning on telling you in the morning. But it was raining, and he's starving, and he really needs a bath, and we couldn't just leave him out there." Jason explained, "Damian would kill us if he found out."

"I'll put the cat in the laundry room for the night. The dog can sleep out in the mud room tonight. We can go pick up dog stuff in the morning." Bruce said with a defeated shrug. Why not have a dog. Why not just add a dog to the mix. Makes perfect sense.

"We got dog food already. He needs food badly." Dick bit his lip.

"Okay. Let's bring him in." Bruce said. He locked the cat up in the laundry room. He still had food, water, a bed, and a little cat tree. 

The dog was big and black with pointed ears. His paws looked too big for his skinny legs. His ribs showed through his matted fur. One of his ears had been nipped. Bruce brought a towel and a space heater into the mud room for him.

The dog was huge, but Dick manage to carry him inside. He didn't have a collar, but he was dirty and matted down. Dick set him on the towel by the heater while Jason filled two tupperware bowls up, one with food, one with water. The dog ate like he hadn't seen food in years. He ate two bowls of dog food before he collapsed on the towel to sleep. 

The three finally went up to bed after he fell asleep. 

Morning came and Damian barreled into Bruce's room. 

"Dad, we got a dog? Let's go see him!" He insisted. Bruce was still groggy, but he agreed and brought him downstairs to the mud room. Damian grinned and reached his hand out for the dog to sniff. He nuzzled gently into the boy's hand.

"We need to take him to the vet today, do you want to come with?" Bruce asked. Damian looked up at him with big, pleading eyes. 

~*~

Dick said the vet didn't find a microchip at all, but he needed food. His limp was most likely a sprain and it would heal up in a couple weeks. Damian rolled up the old towel and threw it in with the wash before bringing in the dog bed. 

"Why don't you bring him to the bathroom down the hall and give him a bath?" Bruce said, "Dick, your back is still out so no more carrying him around."

So Bruce carried him the the bathroom and set him in the bathtub. Damian and Dick set to work, washing out the muck and grime. Dick wiped his eyes clean with a rag while Damian scrubbed him down. They brushed through his fur and worked out most of the mats. When they were done, despite Bruce telling him no, Dick helped the dog out of the bath to dry off. 

"He needs a name." Bruce said once the dog had been fed again, this time with a new collar on. 

"Titus. Because I'm listening to Titus Andronicus." Damian said. Bruce nodded.

"Interesting choice." He said. 

"I like it." Tim smiled. 

"Then Titus he will be." Bruce nodded. 

~*~

Damian hardly left Titus's side. He had very slowly and cautiouslu introduced Alfred the cat. He held him close to his chest and let Titus sniff around. The dog whined and set his head down on the ground. 

Damian carefully lowered the little kitten down in front of Titus, who stuck his nose right next to the cat. Alfred playfully swatted at his nose and snuggled up close. It filled the boy with joy in a way that only animals could really do.

He hesitantly set the kitten down and watched him climb up in the dog bed. He crawled up of his shoulder and curled up for a nap. Titus let his head fall back down.

~*~

"Can I please give you a makeover? It'll be fun." Dick begged. Bruce rolled his eyes but agreed to be turned into whatever an eboy was. Dick said Jason was one, but that didn't make things much clearer. 

"How extensive is this makeover?" Bruce asked.

"As extensive as I can reasonably make it." Dick grinned, "Let's go raid your closet."

Dick went through his clothes, piles and piles of black and white. He took out a black and white striped shirt and a pair of black jeans.

"I didn't know I had this shirt." Bruce whispered. He didn't know he owned a pattern. He only ever wore solid colors, or occasionally a printed grayscale design. 

"Do you have any old band shirts? Preferably something that's too big for you?" Dick asked. Bruce nodded. 

"I was in college in the 90s, of course I do." He said. He opened a drawer full of t-shirts he used mostly for lounging or housework. Dick picked out a Nirvana t-shirt displaying the album cover for Bleach. 

"Now to go steal some of Jason's stuff." Dick said. He recorded a little bit of video and told him to get dressed while he was gone. He came back a while later with a pile of chains and leather. Dick recorded snippets of video interspersed between the layers of chains around his neck, and the thick belt, and the chunky rings. 

"Why does Jason have all this?" Bruce asked. 

"Because he's an eboy. It's on brand for him. He's missing the middle part, but it's fine. We gotta give you a middle part though. Can I put makeup on you? Not a lot, just a little bit." Dick asked. Bruce shrugged. Despite feeling like he'd gained 10 pounds from all the metal on his body, he was feeling pretty good. The clothes were comfortable, and he didn't look unacceptably frumpy.

"I look ridiculous with a middle part." Bruce said while Dick fussed with his hair.

"That's because you've had the exact same haircut and style since you were six." Dick said.

"I rebelled for a decade or so." Bruce reminded him.

"Ah yes, when your hair was half an inch longer and not gelled back like you were a man from 1951." Dick said. Bruce glared at him but stayed quiet, "Okay, I'm doing your makeup. This is gonna suck, but I'll be fast."

Bruce listened to Dick's instructions and he stuck an eyeliner pencil in his eye. Bruce recoiled. 

"See what I mean? It feels bad." Dick said. Bruce tried to keep his eyes open, but he wanted nothing more than to squeeze them shut and rub the eyeliner out. Dick drew a line on one of his cheeks, just at the corner of his eye. 

"What's this for?" Bruce pointed to the little line. 

"I don't know, but it felt right to do." Dick replied with a shrug. He squinted, "Do you have your ears pierced?" 

"One again, Dick. I was in college in the 90s." Bruce reminded him.

"Fair enough. I'll be right back." Dick left. He came back a few moments later with a safety pin, "Jason got special safety pins because he didn't like how the real ones had the loop at the end. Pick an ear."

"Just one?" 

"Yes. And then I gotta teach you some eboy things." Dick said. Bruce stuck the safety pin through his ear, surprised it hadn't ever closed up. 

Dick taught him some eboy things, and made a video with him to show off the look. Bruce smiled, Dick laughed. It was completely ridiculous, but they had fun. 

"You need literally any social media." Dick told him, "Do you want me to set up accounts for you?" 

"I don't know how the internet works. You and I both know that." Bruce said with a sigh.

"So let me be your social media manager. I've managed to get millions of followers across all my platforms, and I know how not to make you look stupid." Dick said, "And I swear I know how to be professional. I can stick to a brand."

"If you can help me not look bad, then sure. You can get me on social media." Bruce said, "Now I'm going to go change and fix my hair."

~*~

Dick sat him down with his phone to show him everything he had done, "I've made it really easy on you. Your handle on everything is just @brucewayne, and your password is all our initials in order, so rgjttddw. You've got Instagram and Twitter. I'll let you take the reins on Instagram, but run things by me if you need to."

"Okay, so what should I post as my debut?" Bruce asked. Dick shrugged. 

"Come stand over here with me." He brought Bruce over to the window and snapped a selfie of the pair together. He typed out a quick caption and handed the phone over for inspection. 

_I've finally made it to Instagram. Thanks to Dick's pestering_

A couple hashtags followed. Dick showed him how to tag someone in a post. He insisted on taking another picture with Bruce for his own account. 

"I've already followed Jason and me, Clark, Silena, Barbara, and Luke. But you can go ahead and follow whoever else you want." He said, handing him the phone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a shorter chapter, hope yall don't mind.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex therapy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Sex Chapter
> 
> TW: Bondage, blindfolds, sex anxiety, 1 use of a Jewish slur (not sex related) 
> 
> All the sex is between the cuts, so you should be good if you want to skip.

"Do you want to try something with me?" Clark asked. They were sitting together after work in the penthouse.

"Depends what it is?" Bruce told him.

"I want to top." Clark told him. Bruce felt his heart speed up. His stomach twisted itself up into his chest, "I guess that's a no then. You just turned white as a sheet."

"I would just prefer to be in control of the situation." Bruce explained. Clark nodded. 

"I don't mean to be pushy, but maybe it'll be good for you. I was talking to my friend, Jonah, not about you I promise. He's a psychiatrist and he was telling me about exposure therapy and-"

"You want to fuck me for exposure therapy?" Bruce raised an eyebrow. He really thought more highly of Clark. He believed he was above such nonsense. 

"I want to help you feel safe. We can be slow and careful, you can set as many boundaries as you need. And if you hate me afterwards then I'll never bring it up again." Clark explained.

"And?"

"And your ass is so fuckable and it's driving me crazy." Clark admitted. Bruce smirked and shifted on the couch to face Clark easier.

"So how do you connect my fuckable ass to exposure therapy." He asked. 

"Please correct me if I'm wrong, because I very well could be, but _she_ isn't the problem persay. The problem is feeling helpless, and out of control, and anxious, and not owning your body. So let's put you in a situation where you feel helpless and out of control, and my job is to help you feel good and relax." He explained. Bruce didn't say anything for a long time. Clark had stuck a chord with him. His perfectionist tendencies were bad as a kid, but they'd gotten so much worse. He'd never really put much thought into it before, although he knew he should have. 

"How do we make me feel out of control?" Bruce asked finally. 

"I don't know. Let's brainstorm. I don't want you to feel so horrible that you panic, that's not helpful. But if we're actually doing this, you need to be uncomfortable." Clark told him. 

~*~

Their plan was put into action that weekend. Bruce was topless, his wrists strapped down to the headboard. His eyes were covered with a blindfold. He felt his heart racing. His guts flipped around in his stomach. He wanted to pull himself free and run away, but he didn't. He stayed where he was. He told himself that he was safe, nothing was going to happen.

He felt Clark settle on his lap. He hummed quietly and Bruce felt him bend over to leave soft kisses on his neck. Clark's fingers ran down his chest. Not scratching, or pinching, or pulling, just touching, just waking Bruce's skin up. 

"I love you." Clark whispered as he tugged gently at his earlobe with his teeth. Bruce squirmed, "You're doing just fine. I don't want to hurt."

Clark kissed him deeply. Bruce wanted to break free and pin him down and make sure he woke up sore and aching. But Clark's hands tracing down his sides felt so good. He opened his mouth to accept Clark's tongue, allowing him to explore. Clark's hands caressed his shoulders. 

"You're so pretty." Clark smiled as he let his kisses trail down his neck.

"I'm not pretty." Bruce snapped. Once his thoughts had caught up to him, he felt a little shameful. He could be a pretty man if he wanted. 

"You're handsome. And hot. And the sexiest man I've ever seen." Clark punctuated each sentence with a deep kiss, inching lower and lower on his body. Bruce whimpered, and bit his lip in embarrassment, "It's okay, my lovely. Make all the pretty sounds you want."

Clark raked his nails lightly over Bruce's skin, sending shivers down his spine. He felt heat building up in his pelvis. Clark kissed down lower, nipping gently at his chest. He climbed off Bruce's lap and slotted himself between his legs. He squeezed his thighs and lapped at Bruce's nipples, earning a small yelp.

Clark stood up and Bruce suddenly felt cold. He felt that anxiety creeping back up. 

"Don't worry, my dove. I'm right here." Clark placed a hand on his thigh. He settled back over Bruce moments later. He captured his lips once again, his hands working open his pants, "Tell me if it's too much and we'll stop."

Clark waited a heartbeat before sliding Bruce's pants off. He felt warm skin against his inner thighs. He wrapped his legs around Clark's waist to feel out the situation. He hadn't taken off his underwear yet, but the skin on skin contact felt hot and irresistible.

Clark purred and traced over his body. Fingers ghosted down the center of his chest. Palms splayed flat against his stomach. Hands kneading his chest.

"I don't have tits, you know." Bruce said breathlessly. 

"Then why is your chest so much fun to squish?" Clark teased. Bruce purred, "Who wanna know what's really hot?"

"What?" Bruce asked.

"This." Clark ran his fingers down Bruce's hips, tracing the V shape down to his cock, "I love it."

Clark leaned over and pressed kisses to his hips. Inching down at a painfully slow rate. Bruce rolled his hips up, Clark pinned him down.

"I'm in charge today." Clark growled. Bruce felt his cock swell at the sound. Clark ran his tongue down the V of Bruce's stomach. He whimpered quietly. Clark gently tucked his fingers under the waistband of Bruce's boxers. His mind raced with possibility. He felt himself hyperventilate, his chest began to ache. He squirmed, "Is this okay right now?" 

Bruce aggressively shook his head. Clark's hands moved to rest on the bed by Bruce's sides. He crawled over Bruce and kissed him. His hand rested softly on Bruce's chest.

"You okay? Do you want to keep going?" Clark asked. Bruce bit his lip. He wasn't sure. Part of him was hard, and horny, and desperate to cum. The other part was anxious, and claustrophobic, and wanted to scream and cry, "We don't have to. We can stop if you want to."

"I don't know." Bruce finally admitted. Clark kissed him softly. 

"Are you too anxious to move any further but too horny to stop?" Clark asked. Bruce nodded, "Do you want to just cum and be done with it?" 

"Underwear stays on." Bruce said defensively, "But that sounds like a perfect idea."

Clark climbed back on Bruce's lap and gently rocked his hips, grinding their cocks together. He pressed their torsos together, nipping at his neck. 

Bruce tried so hard to quiet his mind. He turned his attention to how good it felt to have Clark rubbing up on him. But his mind continued to race. He felt a boulder of guilt pressing into his chest. His insides curled up into his throat and made him dizzy with nausea.

"Banana muffin." He said. Clark immediately stopped. He got off Bruce's lap. His hands shook as he unbuckled his hands. He whispered pleasant nonsense in his ears and kissed his cheeks. 

Bruce pulled off the blindfold, squinting in the now blinding light. He threw himself onto Clark and wrapped him up in a hug. He hid his face in his solid chest. He put all his attention into matching his shaky breathing, just like he told his kids to do. Clark held him close, running his hands through his hair. 

~*~

After a good, long shower, the pair had fresh underwear and comfortable clothes on. They stayed on the couch, Bruce tucked into Clark's chest. Clark's glasses sat on the coffee table. 

"Feeling any better?" Clark asked. Bruce didn't answer, just snuggled in tighter. Bruce's phone rang, "Do you want to answer it?" 

"Probably should." He said. He grabbed the phone an answered it. A man speaking in Arabic greeted him. 

"Good afternoon, Mr. Wayne. I work for the al Ghul family and Miss Talia would like to request to meet with you and her son." He said. Bruce did his best to keep up but he hadn't been using his Arabic as much as he would've liked.

"For what reason?" Bruce asked.

"They will be in America in a few weeks for Mr. Luther's unveiling event. Talia would like to visit with you and Damian while she is there." The man on the phone said. Bruce groaned internally. He didn't want to deal with this, he just wanted to snuggle back up to Clark and forget the world.

"Alright, my assistant handles my schedule, so I will have her contact you." Bruce replied.

"I believe the princess was thinking of a more personal exchange." He sounded uncomfortable over the phone. Bruce felt sick, "Perhaps an outing outside your work hours?" 

"Yes, I will still have my PA contact you. But we should be able to work something out." He sat up and gestured for Clark to help write things down. Clark handed him his phone, opened to his notes app, "Could I take down your information?" 

After he hung up he sent the note to himself. He called Silena and relayed the information, asking her to talk with them.

"Yeah, shoot me a text. How's Clark?" She asked. Bruce turned to look at him and ask how he was.

"Fine I guess." Clark shrugged. 

"He says he's fine." Bruce told Silena. 

"Are you on a date? Put me on speaker phone!" Silena exclaimed. Bruce complied, because it meant he got to lay back down with Clark, "Hey sweetie. How's my little Brucie doing?"

"You can stop calling me Brucie." He snapped. 

"Oh but you were such a sensitive little boy once. You were more femme than me once upon a time. I think I still have pictures from our slumber party, and you were-" 

"Silena." Bruce interrupted. 

"You're no fun. You used to be such a little cutie. I'll send you the pictures we took." She promised. She chatted with Clark for a while before she hung up to find pictures of their slumber party.

It didn't take long for a steam of texts to come in from Silena. She had taken pictures with her phone of her glossy printout photos. He looked through them with Clark.

Bruce blushed looking back. He remembered Silena sneaking him out to take him dress shopping when he was 12. He had accidently hinted at his curiosity with girl's clothes and Silena was a bully of a friend. Back then they were about the same size, so the store clerks didn't raise an eyebrow. Silena loved to spend his allowance money for him, so she bought him an outfit to match his dress. 

"Look how cute you were." Clark cooed. Silena had sent him several photos of his outfit. A baby blue satin dress, with big puffy sleeves, ruching all down the bodice, and a massive skirt. Silena had bought him a petticoat to wear underneath, which had confused him to no end. He had knee high socks and Mary Jane shoes. Silena had tied a blue ribbon in his hair and draped a long pearl necklace around his neck.

There were pictures of Bruce's feeble attempts at braids in Silena's short, curly bob. They took pictures of the manicures they gave each other. Silena was wearing Bruce's clothes to bed that night, since she didn't have pajamas of her own.

"Alfred came in and found me dressed like that and I almost had a meltdown." Bruce said. He remembered choking back tears and promising to take it off. 

"Was he upset?" Clark looked down at him. 

"No," Bruce shook his head, "He offered to try and get ahold of a girl's uniform if I wanted it."

"Did you?" Clark asked. 

"At the time, yes. But I said no because I was already getting called a kike, I wasn't about to show up in a skirt." Bruce scowled. Clark pulled him closer.

"Do you still want to wear skirts and dresses like this?" Clark stroked his hair softly. 

"I'm not a child anymore. I grew out of that breed of curiosity real quick." Bruce set his phone back down, he was an adult. No use daydreaming. 

"Why?" Clark asked. 

"I have more important things to deal with." Bruce explained. Clark sighed. 

"You're no fun. Why do you just shoot down fun?" Clark asked. 

"What do you mean?" Bruce looked up at him. Bruce was fun. Bruce did fun stuff. He read books on occasion. Sometimes he fell asleep watching TV with his kids. He was a fun guy.

"You treat life like it's just one big, long, sad transition to death. Let's have fun." Clark sat up and sat on Bruce's lap.

"Fun how?" Bruce raised an eyebrow, "I used up all my stupid ideas already."

"Let's go have a picnic. Or we can build a fort. Or have a tea party. We can go out with friends and dance and sing. We can watch old home videos. You can show off your musical theater skills. Whatever we want." Clark said, "What's your happiest memory?" 

Bruce thought. He had a lot of happy memories. The slumber party, taking his kids home for the first time, Damian's first hugs, Alfred's tea parties, Hanukkah with his mom. But his happiest memory?

"When I was seven, I fell into this weird cavern. I remember being afraid of the bats down there. Dad came and pulled me out, bandaged me up, and took me inside. He found all these books on zoology in the library to prove that bat's weren't really that scary. And we ended up spending all day learning about different animals, just following a weird little rabbit trail. We learned that platapuses sweat milk, and crows know how to purchase things, and there's an immortal jellyfish. And Dad taught me all the animal names in German." Bruce gazed off in the distance. He was an odd memory to pick as a favorite, but it was something he had never experienced before and will never experience again, "What's your's?"

"I was 14, and we just won this big baseball game. We went out with the team and I had this huge crush on our pitcher. I'd had a girlfriend before that, but he was my first boy crush. We convinced our parents to let us stay the night. We stayed up all night talking about the stupidest middle school garbage. I think it was like 4 in the morning and I told him I liked him. And he was the first person I ever told that I was bi." Clark smiled, "He never actually said anything about it, but we shared a bed together and he snuggled with me. We went down for breakfast and he held my hand under the table the whole time."

"I'm terrified for Talia to visit." Bruce hid his face on Clark's chest.

"Do you want me to be there?" Clark combed through his hair. Bruce nodded, "Okay. I'll be there with you." 

"Thank you." Bruce muttered. 

"Do you want to meet my friends? They're doing a brunch thing tomorrow if you wanted to come." Clark said, "They've been dying to meet you."

"I'd love to. Alfred will be at practice, but Dick and Jason should both be home." Bruce shrugged. Clark grinned and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex therapy is a real thing that can help with sexual assault related trauma. Usually you have a talk therapist to help set up a plan, but these boys don't.
> 
> I'm actually doing my own exposure therapy (but a lot less sexy) to help with my ocd.
> 
> And these are all the reasons I had to justify more smut.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And I said, "What about brunch at Diana's."
> 
> He said "I think that sounds reasonable."
> 
> (this is a terrible reference)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Mentions of suicide
> 
> All triggering content is contained within the "-" for those who don't want to engage.

Bruce liked Diana's house. It was big and white and full of marble. She ended up being a lovely Greek woman with long, silky black hair and hauntingly dark eyes. She wore a cute, short, flowy, turquoise dress. She had tons of gold bangles on her wrists. She introduced herself and her soon to be husband Steve.

"Brunch isn't really my thing, so I'll be sure to stay out of your way." He promised with a sideways grin. He was blond, with a scruffy bit of stubble.

Two more men arrived. One was blond, with bright blue eyes. The other had deep skin and short, waved hair. 

"You must be Bruce, I'm Arthur. This is Vic." The blond man shook his hand, "I hear you've got kids. I've got two. How many do you have?"

"Four." Bruce responded. 

"Hot damn. How do you manage, I can barely keep track of mine." Arthur laughed from deep in his belly. He wore a bright orange Hawaiian shirt. 

"I've got two that are best friends and somehow keep each other in line while encouraging each other's bad ideas. And my little one doesn't do anything. He's content just playing with stuffed animals all day." Bruce shrugged.

Next came Barry and Hal. Bruce couldn't tell if they were just affectionate college buddies or boyfriends. But it was definitely one of the two. Hal hung off Barry's shoulders and laughed at his horrible jokes. Barry looked familiar from somewhere. But Bruce couldn't put his finger on it. 

"Hey, Barry, you've got to check out these new legs I just got." Vic beamed at him. He rolled up one of his pant legs to reveal a prosthetic leg. His calf was made with a hollow net of carbon fiber.

"Holy shit. That's sick as hell." Barry's eyes widened and he darted over. Diana glared at him for swearing.

_Do we know a Barry Allen?_

He figured Dick would know why he looked so familiar. Arthur was already downing a mimosa. 

"You've been here for 10 minutes. The alcohol couldn't wait?" Clark raised an eyebrow at his champagne flute.

"Champagne is already watered-down alcohol. And you're mixing it with juice. It's hardly alcohol." Arthur let out a big bellowing laugh and slapped his shoulder. Bruce wasn't sure how to respond to that, "Bruce, how do you feel about fishing?"

"I can't say I've ever been." He admitted. His dad was a doctor and a gardener. He didn't fish. 

"That's a damn shame. Too good for a billionaire boy like you?" Arthur winked and nudged him with his elbow, "I kid. We should go out sometime. Bring your little guy."

"Yeah. Sounds great." Bruce smiled as he thought about Damian trying to fish. It was a hopeless venture that would end only in tears. Maybe Tim would like fishing? He was too antsy, it wouldn't hold his attention. The older kids wouldn't care at all about it. Bruce could always adopt a fifth kid who might like to fish.

**Barry is Wally's uncle? Why are you w/his uncle?**

_He's at brunch with me. Thanks._

Dick came through once again. Bruce could see the resemblance. Same elvish features, same wide eyes flitting around and drinking in the world.

"Is your nephew Wally West?" Bruce asked him. Barry lit up. He was draped over Hal, running his fingers through his dark hair. 

"Yeah! He's my sister's kid." Barry sat up a little straighter. 

"He's dating my son, Dick." Bruce saw Hal gazing dreamily at Clark. Bruce felt a surge of jealousy build up in his chest. He grabbed his boyfriend's hand and pulled him closer. 

"Oh, Wally brought him over once. He seemed like a very interesting kid." Barry nodded. 

"He's always an adventure." Bruce smiled and wrapped an arm around Clark's hips. Hal blinked and made eye contact finally. Bruce would have to do something about that.

"Wait. Dick is like 18. How old are you?" Wally asked. Bruce felt his stomach drop like a boulder. He didn't want to think about what a baby Clark was compared to him. 

"He's 44." Clark smiled. 

"Holy shit. We've got a rhino on our hands." Hal snickered. 

"No swearing." Diana glared, "Or I'll scrub your mouth out as your mother should have. And don't tease, I'm nine years older than Steve. It's not that odd."

The final guest entered the house, interrupting the conversation. A man with rich, deep skin, and regal features. He looked like royalty. Clark introduced him as Jonah. 

"Clark has told me about you." Jonah smiled and shook Bruce's hand.

"Only good things I hope." Bruce joked. 

"The man gushes about you." Jonah nodded. Clark blushed and smiled shyly. Bruce did his best not to stare triumphantly at Hal. 

"So what do you guys all do?" Bruce asked, glancing around the room. The group answered one at a time. Diana was a lawyer, Arthur was a marine biologist, Vic was in med school, Barry was a physicist, and Hal was a pilot.

"Do you have many friends, Bruce?" Hal asked. 

"Not really," Bruce shrugged, "Silena and I have been friends since we were kids, I've known the Gordons for years, I've got mostly family."

"You were an adorable little kid and you should send me those pictures." Clark nudged him. Bruce rolled his eyes.

Hal opened his mouth to say something but Arthur interrupted him, "I remember seeing you on the news when you were a kid. Weren't you on Winnie's show a few years after the accident?"

"Yeah, when I was 13, just after I got out of the hospital." Bruce nodded.

"Why were you-"

"I'll tell you later." Bruce interrupted his boyfriend. Arthur looked at him sadly. Bruce knew he remembered, but Clark didn't need to know right now. 

"Was Winnie nice?" Barry raised his hand. 

"She was the only good talk show host. I was very emotional and she handled it very well." Bruce nodded. He had a lot going on as a kid, he still had a lot going on. 

~*~

Bruce had shoved Clark in the backseat of the car and crawled on top of him. A small voice in the back of his head told him he was acting childish, but he couldn't help himself. Clark was his, no one else could have him. Bruce bit down hard on his neck, leaving pretty bruises behind. He stayed low enough that Clark could easily cover it up with a collared shirt. Clark whimpered, letting his head loll to the side.

"Are you jealous?" Clark giggled. Bruce growled and bit down harder. Clark gasped and tugged Bruce's hair, he pulled away and pinned Clark's hands on the car seat, "I didn't know you could be so possessive. Are you jealous of Hal?"

Bruce stayed silent.

"You are!" Clark exclaimed, "Sweetheart, Hal has been making goo-goo eyes at me since we met. He's never once made a pass at me. I hardly notice it anymore."

"My Clark." Bruce nuzzled into his neck. Clark wrapped his arms around him and kissed his temple. 

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here." He ran his fingers through Bruce's hair, "Why were you in the hospital when you were 13?"

-

"I jumped off the balcony." Bruce sighed into his chest, "School was hard, I had no real friends outside of Silena, my parents were dead, I didn't have a lot going for me. I couldn't handle it anymore."

Clark just hugged him tighter, "You were 13."

"Yeah. I left a note and everything. I left half the estate to Alfred and I wanted the other half donated." Bruce told him, "But I made it out the other side alright. Can we go home?"

"Sure. We can go home. I love you." Clark kissed him again.

Bruce drove home thinking about his time after the hospital. He remembered coming home wrapped up in his favorite blanket and watching Alfred take the good china out of the cabinets. They didn't say anything, just drank tea in silence. He remembered Silena was in charge of keeping watch. They shared a bed every night for almost a month. She tried to pretend it was just for fun, another slumber party to throw. But as most slumber parties do, late into the night, their conversations turned dark. Silena was a stand-in therapist nearly every night she stayed with him. He remembered his soul felt cold and heavy. 

-

He dropped Clark off at his apartment and went home to hug his kids. He needed a family board game night.

~*~

Clark found Bruce's episode of the Winnie Orphra show when he got home. Little Bruce had his hair neatly styled, he had on a sweater worn over a button-down shirt and a blazer over the whole affair, he had a neat pair of khaki shorts to keep from restricting the cast on his leg. He was a very smartly dressed 13-year-old. He had his crutches propped up on the couch next to him.

"Up next we have young Bruce Wayne, the heir to Wayne Enterprises at just 13 years old," Winnie told the camera. It cut to a wide shot of her talking with Bruce, "Bruce, you've got some big shoes to fill. Are you handling that well?"

"I have a lot of help. Alfred and Lucius are probably the best help right now." Bruce nodded. Clark noticed him conveniently skirt around the question. Clark knew a red herring when he saw it.

"I'd imagine you have a lot of help. Especially just getting out of the hospital. I understand you have a bit of an accident. How long ago was that?" She asked him. Clark saw Bruce's skinny little shoulders tense up. 

"2 weeks. I was in the hospital for three days." Bruce was biting the inside of his cheek and trying to hide it from the camera. 

"You know, I just visited my mother in the hospital last week. She told me that the worst thing about it was just how bored she got sitting there. Did you get bored, how did you pass the time?" She crossed her legs and leaned forward to talk to him.

"It was kinda boring." Bruce smiled shyly. He had a mouthful of braces that he was quick to hide by pressing his lips together, "My friend Silena visited a lot, and Alfred brought me books. I didn't have a lot of homework to get done."

"Do you have a favorite book?" Winnie smiled. She was warm and inviting. 

"I like a Wrinkle in Time. What's your favorite?" Bruce blushed. Clark was amazed by how bashful little Bruce was. He had a small, timid voice. He was skinny and short. His feet couldn't touch the ground in the big, white, leather armchair. He grew up to be such a charming man, full of charisma and dry wit.

"My favorite book is called a Song of Solomon." Winnie told him, "I believe the title comes from a story that is read at passover. Your mother was well known for being a devout Jewish woman. Did you ever read the song?"

Bruce nodded, "Mom used to read it every year. Alfred tried once but he doesn't know Hebrew, so now it's my job."

"Are there any other Jewish students at school with you?" Winnie asked. Bruce shook his head, "No Jewish friends?" 

"No. Most of the other kids make fun of me." Bruce sank into himself, as if he was trying to curl up into a ball. 

"For being Jewish?" Her eyebrows tilted up, a look of concern flashed across her face. 

"And being an orphan." Bruce nodded, "A few days before my accident, one of the bigger kids pushed me down the stairs and threw stuff at me."

"Oh my." Winnie blinked at him, her eyes wide. Clark watched her heart break for this little boy in front of her, "Did they get in trouble?"

"I think he got detention." Bruce bit his lip, blinking quickly. Clark was sure he was choking back tears. He felt desperate to run to Bruce and hug him and wrap him up and kiss him. He was barely 6 months old when this interview happened, he had missed his chance to love that poor boy full of pain. 

"You could've been very badly hurt. I think he should have been suspended at the very least. Are you still going to school there?" Winnie asked. 

"Right now, Alfred is homeschooling me. We're still trying to decide what to do. He thinks the socializing is good for me, but I really don't want to go back." Bruce said with a small shrug. 

Clark closed his computer. He couldn't finish the video. He knew that was from 30 years ago, but it hit too close to home. Hearing little Bruce so close to tears made Clark's heart ache.

He sent a text to Bruce telling him he loved him and left to go on a walk. Bruce sent back a picture of the family playing the Game of Life. Dick was sitting on the table, Jason was drawing on the cards with a pen, Damian had hoards of money stacked up around him, Tim grinned happily at the camera. His little car game piece was full, so he had two extra cars he was filling up.

_I'm not sure who's winning_

Clark smiled. He knew Bruce was going to be okay.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Therapy session

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those who celebrate, I hope you had a good Easter. 
> 
> To those who celebrate passover, happy passover! I think yall are about halfway done now? Keep it up, you're doing great!

It was Damian's first day of therapy. Bruce thought it would be a good idea to get him in before his mom came to town. The doctor sounded good online. 

Bruce sat with him in the waiting room. Damian squeezed his sheep close to his chest. He had a couple other stuffed animals in his backpack he brought, just in case. 

"Feeling okay?" Bruce asked. Damian nodded, "Nervous?" 

"A little." He shrugged. Bruce worked on filling out the paperwork. He gave Damian the questionnaire and let him fill it out. He had a couple questions about it, but he was a smart kid and handled it on his own. Bruce didn't want to intrude, Damian's mind was his own.

When he was finished, Damian brought up the papers to the front desk. The secretary smiled down at him and Damian sat back with his dad. A pretty blonde woman walked out of the door. 

She wore a structured black top tucked into a pair of skinny jeans. She had a cropped leather jacket and a pair of chunky black booties. Damian thought that if he was a little older, and liked girls, he would've liked her. She called out his name and Damian slid off his chair. 

"Why don't you bring your dad back too." She gestured for him to follow. They walked into another little room.

The walls were painted a soft cream color. Long, sheer, white curtains framed the window. A big white leather couch sat at one end if the room and a simple looking desk and office chair sat at the other. Several plants were scattered about the room, a couple even hung from the ceiling in little glass orbs. She had a pile of stones on her desk, one stacked neatly on top of the other. In the corner was a basket of what looked like toys.

"What's that for?" Damian pointed to the basket. The room smelled nice, like chamomile and peppermint.

"Those are stim toys. I use them with my patients with autism, attention disorders, OCD, anxiety. Lots of people like them." She explained. She pulled out her office chair and sat with a fancy looking notebook and a gold pen, "I'm Dinah. Come sit and tell me what's up." 

"Would you like to start, Damian?" Bruce asked once they were seated. 

"I get nervous really easily, and sometimes my nerves make me really angry and it can be hard to control it." Damian squeezed his sheep's little fabric feet.

"And you'd like to help navigate that?" Dinah asked. Damian nodded, "Anything you'd like to add, Dad?" 

"He used to have a hard time with emotions. I'm not sure if he had a hard time recognizing them or acting on them, I don't know. But we got him these stuffed animals, and I think they've helped you with that." Bruce looked down at his son. Damian nodded quietly. 

"How exactly have they helped you?" Dinah leaned forward. 

"Before, they just let me pick what I was feeling so I could show people and explain it better. But now dad says they're a more like a comfort item." Damian moved Sheep's feet to make him look like he was dancing. Dinah smiled. 

"What's home life like? Siblings? Pets? Mom?" Dinah scribbled in her notebook. 

"I have three older brothers, a cat named Alfred the Cat, and a dog named Titus. Mom is complicated and doesn't live here, but my Grandpa, Alfred the Man lives with us, and dad has a boyfriend named Clark." Damian listed off.

"How old are your brothers?" 

"Dick is 18, Jason is 15, and Tim is 12." He responded. 

"Dad, you'll probably answer this question better. Is there a history of mental illness in the family?" She asked. 

"I have PTSD and depression, as did my father. His brothers are all adopted, but Dick and Jason both have PTSD, Dick has OCD, Jason has GAD. And Tim has ADHD." Bruce explained. Dinah nodded and took notes.

"Alright, let's send dad away and you and me can talk." She smiled at Damian. 

"Is it okay if I go grab some batteries for Jason's hearing aids? He said he's out." Bruce asked. Damian nodded.

It was just the two of them now. Damian and Dinah. 

"Alright. I'm very curious about your mom. Why is she so complicated?" Dinah brought her pen up to her lips.

"I don't know all of it, but I know parts." Damian stared down at his sheep, "I know Mom forced Dad into a one night stand in Egypt, which is how I happened. She didn't ever really want me, so she just ignored me until she decided she was done with me. So she brought me to America."

"What do you mean forced?" Dinah knit her brows together. Damian shrugged. 

"I just know that she would get angry with me and tell me I was a mistake of a child and she never should have listened to her father and she caused Dad irreversible pain to bring me into this world." Damian played with his sheep. Dinah looked shocked.

"Did she ever hit you?" She looked like she wanted to burst from her chair and hug him. 

"No. She just wasn't really there. We ate together, and we celebrated the Eids, but not much else. Sometimes I got birthday cake." Damian explained, "The servents sometimes played with me, but I think they're were afraid of getting too close."

"You had servents?" Dinah took a deep breath.

"Jaddi is very rich." Damian said, "Can I sit on the floor?"

"Sure." Dinah waved her hand to the ground, inviting Damian to sit, "What's school like?" 

"Bad. One of the kids found out I was gay and now a whole big group of them keep teasing me." Damian sat with his legs crossed and brought out more of his toys. 

"You're gay?" 

"Yes. Tim says I can't know that yet because I'm still a kid. But I've always known that. I didn't have a word all the time. But I knew I liked boys." Damian made Cat pounce on Giraffe. They struggled a while before Giraffe was taken down. 

"Your father has a boyfriend. Do you think he may have swayed you into thinking that?" Dinah wrote notes while she watched him play.

"No. Because I tried to hold hands with a boy in Egypt and mom got really mad at me. I didn't know I even had a dad yet." Damian brought Dog to help Cat eat its prey. Anger and sadness gobbled up the love he had for home. He remembered reading the story of Prometheus. The eagles would come at eat up his liver as an unjust punishment for his crimes. But it always regrew in the morning. Giraffe would be alive and well with time. And then Dog and Cat would return some time later and eat him up again.

"Have you told your father?" Dinah asked.

"Yeah. That was before he started dating Clark. He said he was confused and he didn't really know what he felt yet. I was really nervous, so I just sort of yelled it at him." Damian let Giraffe lay on the floor, limp. His stitched on smile still bright and cheery as ever. 

"What did he say?"

"Nothing really. Dick has had a lot of boyfriends and girlfriends already. So I don't think it was that surprising." Damian scooped up the dead Giraffe and placed him gently in his backpack to let him heal. Maybe he could have Alfred spray it and make it smell like roses again.

"Could you explain what your stuffed animals just did?" Dinah pointed to Cat and Dog. She got up, out of her chair, and sat across from Damian. 

"This is Cat, and Dog, and Giraffe is put away. Cat means sad, Dog means angry, and Giraffe means I miss Cairo." Damian pointed to his stuffed animals, "Cat attacked Giraffe when I was thinking about Mom. Dog and Cat are best friends, so Cat invited him to eat."

"Cat killed Giraffe?" Dinah raised an eyebrow. Damian nodded, "Does Cat kill him often?" 

"Sometimes. Giraffe doesn't really like attention so usually he stays off to the side and watches everyone. But Cat or Dog will kill him if he's too loud. Not all the time, but most." Damian stared at his animals. He didn't blame them for what they did. Cats and Dogs need food, and Giraffe is prey, just like Sheep and Cow.

"Next time you come in, would you like to bring all your animals?" Dinah asked him. Damian nodded, "Do you like animals?" 

"Yeah. They're my favorite thing. Alfred the man got me Alfred the cat for my birthday. He's a little tuxedo kitten and he's so small and soft." Damian grinned.

"I wish I could meet him."

~*~

Dick wasn't home right now, so Bruce called Jason to let him know he was coming home. It rung once before hanging up, a text came through shortly after.

_I can't hear. Text instead._

Bruce sighed. He usually forgot Jason wore them, especially at night. He'd bump into Jason after he had gotten ready for bed and ask him a question, only to get a blank, confused stare in return.

"Damian, text Jason and tell him we're on our way home." Bruce handed him his cell phone, "How did it go today?" 

"It went okay. She said that you should call her about an emotional support animal." Damian said. 

"I'll call her about it tomorrow." Bruce promised.

"Jason said okay and to text him when we get there so he can come meet you and you don't scare him like last time." Damian told him. 

~*~

Dick came in through the front door and walked up to Jason's room. His little brother was sitting on the bed reading.

"Oh my god. So I was out with Wally and-" 

"I can't hear." Jason interrupted and pointed to his hearing aids sitting on the nightstand, "Dad's getting batteries."

Dick nodded and crawled up close to him. He pulled out his phone and pulled up the notes app on his phone. Jason let his head fall on his shoulder. 

"Wally and I went out today and we were being cute boyfriends and stuff when we ran into Connor Kent. He said that he missed me and would love to see me again while Wally was standing right there and Meghan still hasn't found the right time to dump him, so they're absolutely still together." He recorded himself saying. He let his phone write everything down for him for Jason to read.

"I mean, he did also cheat on his girlfriend. So are you really surprised?" Jason asked. It was a clumsy solution but his hearing wasn't bad enough to really require him to learn more than a couple signs, and he was awful at lip reading. So it worked. He explained it to Dick as just a wall of noise where everything wort of blended together in a jumble, the aids just helped him pick out sounds and give his hearing more range.

Dick shrugged one of his shoulders, he didn't want to disturb him. Sometimes he wondered why the internet thought they were sleeping together, and then he would come home and snuggle in bed with him. He could almost see their point.

"You're much more comfortable to lay on now, and my ears don't hurt, so that's something." Jason said. Dick laughed, which made Jason laugh, "Come read with me."

Jason opened up his book and held it out for Dick to read. When Dick wanted to turn the page, he tapped twice, gently, on the back of the book. It was about a woman in Cambodia who would hunt for recyclables to sell and buy books for her landlord to teach her how to read.

Dick had always liked reading, but he was never very good at it. He could always get by, but reading for fun was too much work. He would skip words, whole paragraphs sometimes and have to backtrack several times. Usually he would play an audiobook while he read, just to make sure it stuck.

Jason on the other hand, always loved to read. You wouldn't peg him for a reader, but he had bookcases crammed with books. They were stacked up on his desk, on the floor, on his dresser, everywhere. Jason used to sit and read aloud to Dick to help with his vocabulary and his accent.

Dick remembered sitting with him, repeating words back and forth. Dick was 12, Jason was 9. But he tried his best to explain how to move your mouth properly, how to hold your jaw, where your tongue fit. 

"Dad's home." Jason checked his phone, his flashlight blinked a couple times to let him know about the text. 

The pair got up out of bed and hurried downstairs. Bruce tossed the package of batteries to Jason for him to switch them out. Damian dropped his bag to the floor and sat up at the breakfast bar with Jason. 

"Dick, go get Tim. We're having a family update meeting." Bruce said. By the time everyone was together, Jason could hear again, Damian had his toys put away, and Tim was spinning back and forth in the barstool.

"Whats up?" Jason asked. 

"Few things. Dick, you've got a followup with the doctor this weekend. If you're lucky you can go back to silks and gym." Bruce leaned forward on the counter, "Now for the rest of you, Talia al Ghul will be visiting in January after the holidays. It'll only be for a day, she won't even be spending the night. I want you all to be good to her, and treat her with hospitality."

Damian's face fell. The blood drained from his cheeks, he stared dead ahead into the wall. 

Dick felt rage bubbling in his chest. How dare his father. How dare he bring that witch into the house and expect them to act like a picture perfect family. Damian was already completely numb just thinking about it. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Dick, you have thoughts." Bruce didn't ask. He stated. 

"Yes, I do. That woman turned Damian into an emotionless little brat, and you're just going to throw him right back into that? After all the work we've put in to pull him out? And she-she-ugh, you know exactly what's going to happen to you the second you see her." Dick threw his hands up. His voice crescendoed into a frustrated scream. Tim covered his ears with his hands, Jason placed his hands over Tim's. Bruce stared at the counter until he was done. 

"I know, I haven't been very honest about my relationship with her. I never lied about it, I just never told any of you everything. But my mission is to bring good and happiness into this world. If that means sacrificing myself then so be it. Damian has tools now, and a solid foundation of support to bounce back. I'm confident in that." Bruce spoke calmly, but his hands were shaking, "She just wants to see her son. I can't deny her that. Damian and I will be in our own space, not her's. We will have Alfred and Clark there. I hope you three can help Damian if he has an outburst, but I don't blame you if you don't want any part of this."

Jason uncovered Tim's ears. The worst of it was over. Dick still fumed, but he knew he couldn't argue.

"You're such an idiot sometimes." Dick muttered. 

"I know. I know this is a horrible decision. But it has been made, and we will overcome the consequences." Bruce sat up, he had a hard look on his face, "Now go and be powerful."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jason's book is called The Rent Collector by Cameron Wright. 
> 
> For those like me who struggle with lists, here's a little bit better breakdown of everyone's mental health excluding Damian. 
> 
> Bruce: PTSD, depression  
> Thomas: Depression  
> Dick: PTSD, OCD  
> Jason: PTSD, GAD  
> Tim: ADHD


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanukkah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick disclaimer. I am not Jewish. I am pagan, I do Yule and Christmas with my not pagan family.
> 
> I'm so sorry if I mess something up, it is purely ignorance.

Clark was coming over for Christmas dinner. Bruce wasn't big on Christmas. It always felt like another day that happened around Hanukkah, but this year Christmas fell right in the middle of the eight days. So he figured, why not have Clark over for dinner.

Damian was helping Alfred make latkes and sufganiyot. Dick was arranging presents on the table. They didn't have a tree, but the table was close enough. One gift for each kid from Bruce, a gift for everyone from Alfred, and the boys all drew names to decide who they had to buy gifts for.

Clark arrived quickly, and Tim welcomed him in. 

"Are you excited for donuts? They're really good. They have jelly in them and powdered sugar. And we get all the latkes we want. And Dad make cinnamon rolls this morning for us. And Dad said I can eat more sweets than normal because it's a holiday. And we get chocolate gelt so I can have so much sugar and-"

"Tim, quiet. Why don't you go find Jason and bring him down." Bruce grabbed his son's shoulder as he was escorting Clark in, "Thanks for coming. Jewish Christmas is kind of boring, but the boys can teach you how to play dreidel if you want."

"Sure. I didn't know if presents was a thing or not." Clark bit his lip. 

"If you want. It's more about candy." Bruce shrugged. He handed him a chocolate coin, "Dinner should be done soon."

Clark sat awkwardly at the breakfast bar, watching Bruce help cook. Titus came and rested his head in Clark's lap.

"Damian you can't let that dog beg so much. If you want a support animal, he's got to be well trained." Bruce reminded him.

"He is well trained. He just likes food." Damian insisted. Tim came back with Jason. 

"Todd, why don't you teach Clark how to play dreidel?" Bruce said. Tim and Jason stared at Bruce. 

"Am I Todd?" Jason pointed to himself. 

"Sure, why not." Bruce shrugged.

Jason brought Clark into the sitting room with Tim, Dick decided to join the game too. Jason poured out a bowl of chocolate coins on the hardwood floor. The boys passed out the coins and left a small pile in the middle. 

"Tim is the baby so he can go first." Jason tossed the little top to him. Jason pointed to the letter on the dreidel, "That's hei, it means he gets to take half the pot."

They played slowly, reminding Clark which side meant what. They threw coins in, took coins away, argued over whether someone's half was really half, until finally, Tim ended up with all the chocolate coins. He beamed with pride at his victory.

Damian came in to announce dinner was ready. The table was set, Alfred was filling glasses with water. Bruce stood with the menorah and waited for everyone to take a seat around him. 

"Okay, so when Dad lights it, we all gotta sing and then we can't talk until he's done." Tim explained to Clark.

"What are we singing?" He asked. 

"You don't have to sing." Bruce said as he placed the four candles, "We're basically just saying thanks God for making Hanukkah happen and making sure that those men in a temple had oil."

Clark nodded. Bruce lit the first candle in the middle and let everyone sang. Clark and Alfred both stood and watched the boys sing. Damian stumbled over a few words, but he recovered quickly. The room went quiet while Bruce lit the candles. It was a moment of peace, something small and quiet.

Bruce clapped his hands together when the first candle went back in it's place. The boys all cheered and reached for food. Bruce sat at the head of the table next to Clark and held his hand.

"I know it's not a lot, but I hope you don't mind." Bruce squeezed his hand.

"It's nice. I don't really know what's going on or what I'm supposed to be doing. But it's been fun so far." Clark smiled.

"I'm glad." Bruce smiled. 

~*~

Once they had all eaten their fill, Alfred brought out the sufganiyot on a big platter to the sitting room. Dick picked Tim up and carried him into the sitting room, singing the menorah song loudly with Jason as his back up. 

"What's a Hora?" Clark asked Bruce. Dick dropped Tim on the couch in a fit of giggles. Alfred carried the menorah in carefully and left it by the window before sitting with the family. 

"It's a wedding dance sometimes you do it at bar mitzvahs." Dick explained. Clark nodded. 

"Who gets first story?" Bruce asked. Dick and Tim both raised their hands, "Dick, you went last night. Let Tim go."

"Once upon a time." Tim stood in the middle of the room, "There was a mouse, a bird, and a sausage. They're all roommates, and they all have different chores. The mouse gets the water, tends the fire, and sets the table. The bird flies into the forest for wood, and the sausage is the cook. And the bird gets upset. She thinks that mouse and sausage have it too easy. Because after mouse does all his chores, he can sit and test. And the sausage just rolls around in the pot around meal time to season their food."

"Ew they eat hot dog water every day?" Jason sneered in disgust. 

"He's not a hot dog, he's a sausage." Tim corrected, "But the bird is mad so they all switch jobs. Bird gets the water, mouse cooks, and sausage finds wood. The sausage takes too long, so the bird leaves. She finds a big dog eating the sausage and she asks for him back. The dog said he had forged documents and would only give him back if he could eat the bird. So she leaves. But while she's out the mouse does what the sausage did and jumps in the pot to roll around and he boils himself alive. When the bird comes back she finds his boiled mouse body and throws everything everywhere and the house burns down and they all die."

Damian clapped politely.

"That was a very interesting story. Thank you, Tim." Bruce said. Tim grinned and sat back down, "Dick, your turn."

"Today, I will tell you all of the tale of the evil witch, and also kindly grandmother sometimes, Baba Yaga!" Dick said dramatically.

"Boo." Jason threw a chocolate coin at him. Bruce glared at him, "You told us that story last night."

"Alright fine. I'll tell you my own boiling to death story." Dick crossed his arms over his chest. Bruce sighed deeply, he sighs more and more as they get older, "Once there was an old czar, who had an archer named Ivanushka. One day, the archer went out with his strong and powerful horse to hunt. While he was out, he found a golden feather. And his horse told him the feather would bring him much trouble. Ivanushka did not listen to powerful horse, and brought the feather back to czar. The czar was pleased, but demanded the bird."

"The bird with the gold feathers?" Damian asked. Dick nodded. 

"Ivanushka went out hunting and brought back the golden firebird. The czar demanded the Princess Vasilisa as his bride and threatened to kill Ivanushka if he didn't comply. So he went and found her and brought her back to the kingdom. She cried when she saw that she was forced to marry the old czar so she ordered him to heat his bath until it boiled and bath away his age, making him young again. The czar listened to the Princess, but demanded Ivanushka get in the bath first. He hung his head, but climbed in the bath. Secretly, his horse cast a magical spell on Ivanushka, so the longer he soaked in the bath, the more handsome he became. The czar get in the bath and boiled himself to death, leaving Princess Vasilisa and Ivanushka to be married."

This time the room clapped. Dick bowed dramatically. They all told stories. Jason told the story of Christmas poinsettias, Alfred told them about Christmas in Vietnam, Clark told them a fairy tale about a land who doesn't know cats, Bruce told them stories of his parents. Even Damian told them a story of a man who beat fate after being condemned to die by a snake, a crocodile, or a dog. And then they sang. Alfred played the piano while the boys all jumped and dance and sang loudly.

"Jason you have a really good voice." Clark commented. The boy stopped dancing and blushed furiously.

"I don't, but thanks I guess." He shrugged. He bit his lip. 

"No, you sound really nice." Clark smiled. Dick paused his dance. 

"He's right. You sound great, trust me. You'll be the Beethovan of edgy eboy music." Dick smiled and took his hand. Jason rolled his eyes but eased back into the dance. He didn't sing along anymore. 

"When can we get presents? " Tim raised his hand. 

"Whenever you can convince your brothers." Bruce told him. Tim begged his brothers to open their gifts. 

"I have some small stuff if that's okay." Clark said. 

"Sure. No one will turn down a present." Bruce kissed him quickly and let him add the small packages to the pile. 

They crowded around the present table and Damian passed out the gifts. The boys had four gifts each, Alfred had two, Bruce had one.

"I have a present for you too, but it can wait." Bruce whispered to Clark. 

Damian was the youngest, so he got to go first. Everyone groaned, he took so long unwrapping everything. Bruce gave him a little stuffed otter with a name tag that stated his name was Odie. Jason gave him a copy of Where the Sidewalk Ends.

"You said you didn't care for poetry, so I decided to change your mind." Jason smirked, "Plus maybe it'll help you feel more like a kid."

Damian gave him a quick hug and continued. Alfred's gift was heavy, Damian could barely lift it. Inside was a weighted blanket. Alfred said that it supposedly helped with anxiety. Clark had given him a squishy little mint green sheep toy. Something soft to play with.

Next up was Tim. Dick gave him a big box of nuts, bolts, wire, and scrap sheet metal. Clark felt a little offended for Tim by the gesture, but the boy's eyes widened and he yelled about how much cool stuff he could make. Alfred and Bruce each got him a new science kit, one grew crystals, the other was a little chemistry set. Clark's little animal gift was a pink rabbit. 

Jason got a big stack of books. Clockwork Orange, Frankenstein, Brave New World, and The Things We Carry. Clark gave him a little yellow cat. 

"You like books?" Clark tilted his head. 

"I love them. I read more than Damian." Jason looked over his pile. He looked eager to dive in. 

Dick had a wide range of presents, even only receiving four. Damian gave him a book titled Will My Cat Eat My Eyeballs. Alfred got him a vintage Gorn action figure after watching the original Star Trek series with him. Bruce gave him a whole box of pretty rocks. Bismuth, a cube of pyrite, opal, an amathyst geode, turitella agate. All kinds of things. Clark had given him a small blue penguin.

~*~

"Now it's time for your present." Bruce wrapped his arms around Clark's neck. He kissed him softly and handed him a small, flat, velvet box, about the size of his hand. Inside was an envelope folded in half labeled _gelt_ and a silver necklace. It wasn't flashy or big or obnoxious, just a silver chain with a little S hanging from it. 

"Why S?" Clark furrowed his brows. 

"For Superman. I don't know if you ever named your superhero self as a kid, so I named him Superman for you. Holding out hope that one day you'll live up to the big dreams you had as a kid." Bruce shrugged. It was a silly gift. He knew that. But after seeing all his trophies and drawings and old poems taped to the wall of his childhood bedroom, he knew that kid wouldn't be content with a silly desk job. 

Clark wrapped him up in a hug, "S for hope."

"Yeah," Bruce chuckled, "S for hope."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is a little late. I was doing a ton of research to do my best to not screw this chapter up although I'm sure there is still mistakes I made.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talia comes to visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Talia is here. No specifics, but like, lots of emotions.

The Wayne family all sat in the sitting room, waiting. All were silent. Clark held Bruce's hand. Dick had an arm around Damian, keeping him close. The boy clung tightly to his older brother, nervous about what his mother would say about his toys. Alfred had a tray of honey almond cookies, he thought it might be something familiar for Talia to feel a little less alienated. 

The doorbell rang and Alfred stood to answer it. Damian pushed Dick away and sat up as straight as he could. Titus lay on the floor in front of him, sleeping peacefully.

Alfred escorted a young, Arabic woman inside with a man a little older than Clark. Her eyes were dark and piercing, her high cheekbones and Roman nose gave her a regal, elegant look. Her hair was covered with a hijab the color of caramel. She wore a long, cream colored shirt and black skinny jeans with a matching cream peacoat.

The man wore a plain white striped button up shirt and chinos. His hair was thick and curly, and he a dusting of neatly trimmed stubble over his cheeks. He introduced himself as Cain. 

The boys all stood and introduced themselves. They shook Cain's hand and smiled politely at Talia. Dick tipped an imaginary hat to her, a little respectful bow. Bruce could see his hard set jaw. 

"Hello, Mother." Damian said. He stared up at her blankly. 

"Hello, Damian. You have grown, but you are still so thin. Have they fed you well?" She knelt next to him, holding his face softly.

"Yes, Mother. Alfred and Dad are quite good cooks." He told her. She smiled and nodded. 

"Bruce, this is my husband, Cain." She gestured to him. Bruce stood and shook his hand.

"My pleasure. This is my partner Clark." Bruce allowed him to say hello, "We made cookies, please help yourself."

He swallowed hard. He felt a cold pit in his stomach, but he pushed it away for now, turning his attention to being a good host. He invited the couple to sit.

"You have lovely boys. Quite handsome." She smiled, "Please tell me all about yourselves. If you would please tell me the sort of brothers my son has."

"I do acrobatics." Dick started, "I teach a kids gymnastic class. I like geology and history."

"I'm Jason, I read a lot. I do some programming stuff. I like music I guess." He slumped down in the couch.

Tim hopped up, "It's my turn. I like making stuff. I really wanna make a whole robot but that seems really hard. So maybe later. I really like learning about robotics and mechanics and engineering and it's a lot of fun and I wanna be am engineer."

Talia giggled. She got to know the boys. They talked about Jason's favorite books. Bruce watched him shut down a little when they brought up music. Tim showed off his little helicopters he made and the rc car he modified. Dick stayed quiet. She talked to Clark about his job, what was his family like, what he thought of the kids. 

"Children, I have so dearly loved speaking with you all. But would you so kindly give your father and I a bit of privacy, please?" She pleaded with her eyes. They began to leave. She caught Damian's arm, "I would like to speak with you too."

Damian turned and sat back down. She stared down at her lap, Cain put an arm around her shoulders.

"I will admit, Bruce. I did not only come here to speak with my son." She started. Bruce watched Clark clench his hands into fist, he gently placed a hand over Clark's, "I came as well to apologize to you. And to you, little Malik."

"Apologize?" Bruce felt nauseous. He wanted to run away and hide and cry. But he stayed in his seat. He had to hear her out. It was only right. 

"Yes. It has been a long journey for me. You came to me when I was very young, and I want to believe that I have grown." Talia crossed her legs, "As a young woman I was too reliant on my father, Ra's. He was a cold, manipulative old man. I felt sick following his orders, I despised his wickedness, but he seemed near god-like and I did not know how to turn down God."

"That does not justify the treatment you gave to me." Damian snapped. Talia looked up sadly. 

"I know. But I want you to understand, please. I do not ask for your love, or pity, or forgiveness. I only ask that you understand me." She moved to sit by her son, "Do you remember your Grandfather?" 

"Of course. He was a witch worthy of burning." Damian said without cracking a smile. 

"Yes. I quite agree." She laughed, "He was a cruel, and hard man. A djin in all meaning."

"He manipulated you. And you felt so guilty about what you did to Father, you couldn't bear the thought of me. A constant reminder of your mistake." Damian recited. Talia look as if she was going to cry. 

"You deserved a better mother. You deserved so much more than me. I want to be a better mother to you." She choked out, "I am sorry I made you feel unwanted. I am sorry I told you such horrible things. I am sorry I told you who to love and hate. I am sorry I taught you so little about what it means to love. I'm sorry I abandoned you."

She dabbed at her eyes with her fingers. Bruce stood, set a box of tissues on the end table, and sat back down.

"Mom." Damian looked like a broken doll, "I'm gay."

"I know." Talia said, "When you were three you asked why you couldn't kiss Abraham, the servent's son. When you were six you tried to ask Khalil to marry you. I have known for a long time."

"You told me I was lucky to be alive after that." Damian sneered. 

"Because you were. If man were to be with a man in Egypt, he would be killed in the streets. I did not want you to love women, I wanted you to be safe, and safe meant you could not love men." Talia explained, "I love you with all my heart. I named you Malik because I believed you were destined to be a strong, wise, powerful king. You will be a great man, with husband beside you."

Damian responded in the least expected way. Bruce wasn't sure he'd ever witnessed this. He'd seen Damian scream, and kick, and hit, and bit, and attack. He'd seen Damian so panicked he couldn't breathe and fainted. He'd seen so many outbursts. And yet, he'd never seen this. 

Damian cried. 

He curled up in a ball and cried. Before Bruce could pick him up and hold his boy, Talia hugged him. She wrapped her arms around her son and rocked him. She sang under her breath. A short lullaby, about your father coming home with a scarf after selling his lemons. About knowing that you deserve love. 

"Clark, can you go get stuffies please?" Damian muttered between sobs, "Cat and Otter and Giraffe."

"Of course." Clark squeezed Bruce's hand and left the room.

"I can be a king." Damian said quietly, "I can kiss boys and hold their hands and ask them to marry me."

"When you're a little older." Talia smiled at him, "America is a good home for you, until Egypt opens its arms for its king."

Damian hugged her until Clark came in with an arm load of toys. Damian scooped them up and held them close. He gave Clark a quick hug.

Talia stood in front of Bruce, she hung her head. For the moment, Clark sat with Damian, rubbing soft circles in his back.

"Bruce. I love you, I have since I was a girl. But what I did was not an act of love. It was an act of abuse. I was 20 years old when you came to Cairo. I did not want an older man, but father was very traditional." She stood her ground, "It was his scheme, his plot to ruin you. I was not given a choice. But that does not mean I did not commit my crimes."

"Talia-"

"Please. Let me finish." She knelt on the ground, "I hurt you. I caused you so much pain. You are such a good man, full of love and power. You did not once tear me down. You have been kind to your enemy, you have respected me, you have invited me into your home, you have let me speak to my son, you have allowed your children to meet me. This is more than I deserve."

She bent down, as if she was praying, "Do with me as you will." 

Bruce slipped off the couch and knelt in front of her.

"Talia," He gently placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her up, "What happened, happened. It seems like you've grown a lot. Hell, when we meant you weren't even close to modest. And I imagine Ra's was more of a dick then you're letting on. I don't think what you did was right or okay, and it's still a lot, but I can't really blame you."

Talia's tears were creating little racoon rings if mascara under her eyes, "You are a very kind man."

"Would Allah be mad if I gave you a hug?" Bruce asked. 

"I don't care." Talia laughed through her sniveling and hugged Bruce. They stayed there for a very long time. Bruce felt dizzy, and a little sick when he thought about it, but this was a woman, who was very hurt, who needed a hug. Bruce can break down and throw up later. 

"Damian, do you want to show her your room?" Bruce asked, choking back tears of his own. Damian wiped his eyes and took his mom's hand. Cain followed close behind, leaving Bruce and Clark alone. He let his walls down and collapsed into Clark's arms.

He was tired. He felt too big, too heavy, too bulky. His body was made of lead. He wanted to throw up, cry, and take a nap. In the order preferably. The couple sat down. Titus tested his head on Bruce's lap.

Dick knocked quietly and tiptoes inside. He didn't say anything, just sat on the other side of Bruce, and rested a head on his shoulder. Bruce wrapped an arm around his shoulders and kissed the top of his head. Dick had a way of knowing when Bruce needed him most. 

Jason snuck in a little while later. He crawled up on Dick's lap, snuggling close to Bruce. Tim came soon after, sitting on Bruce's lap this time. They were all stuck in a big dog pile. Bruce hugged his kids, Clark hugged his boyfriend.

"You don't think it's weird to come sit on Dad's lap?" He asked quietly. 

"No." Dick smiled, "We love you, Dad."

"I love you too. All of you. Family movie night?" Bruce asked.

"Only if Clark gets to come too." Tim insisted, "He's not getting any snuggles."

"Well ask if he wants more." Bruce smiled. Titus barked, "Do you need to come up?"

He pat the couch and let the dog climb up. He curled up and fell back asleep next to the cat. Bruce felt himself drifting off. He was tired, and warm, and he needed to just sleep. Soon the five of them had all fallen asleep on the couch. 

~*~

Alfred woke Bruce up when Talia was leaving. Bruce moved Tim to Clark's lap and let Dick and Jason slump over together. He made himself a little more presentable and went to see her out.

She spoke in Arabic to Damian, which Bruce's still half asleep brain didn't quite process. She hugged him tightly and stood to her full height.

"Auf wiedersehen." Bruce said. They stared at him. "Damian which language was that."

"German." Damian answered. Bruce sighed. 

"Goodbye. I hope you had a good night." Bruce corrected.

"It was productive, yes." Talia smiled. She had fixed up her makeup, "Tell your sons goodbye for me. And your husband."

"I'll be sure to." Bruce smiled and let them walk out the door. Damian reached up for his dad's hand, "How was she?"

"She wants me to start calling her more." Damian said quietly, "She wanted to talk about Henry. And she said she wants me to have more books in Arabic."

"Arabic books are hard to find here. I'd love to get all you boys books in your first language if you'd like to help me look." Bruce told him, "Come on. Let's go wake up your brother, we're watching a movie."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it wasn't clear, Damian's Arabic name is Malik al Ghul. When he moved in with Bruce, he changed his name to Damian Wayne. Malik seemed a fitting name, and miles better than Ibn. That is a bad name for a boy DC.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick goes to a party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Alcohol, sad drunk, reference to incest

Dick rarely got drunk. He rarely acted out. He liked following certain rules. He liked rules he believed in. But right now, he was buzzed at Wally's 18th birthday party. And they were playing a game of truth or dare. Which Dick should never play drunk, or with people he didn't really know. Luckily it was a pretty small party, which means that Dick would only reveal all his secrets to four other people.

Wally, a cute Vietnamese girl named Artemis, a goth girl named Rachel, but she insisted on being addressed as Raven, and Wally's cousin Bart.

Artemis took a swig from her bottle and pointed to Dick, "Truth or Dare?" 

"Dare." He was sitting on Wally's lap, hoping this could just go straight to the sex part and he could have drunk sex with his boyfriend. And also maybe the goth. Depending how the night went.

"Talk in an accent for the rest of the round." She gestured to him. 

"Well," He let his accent switch over, "You do know I'm Russian? Pick something harder next time. Raven, truth or dare."

"Truth." She looked over lazily. 

"Most expensive shoplift." Dick raised an eyebrow and took the bottle from Artemis.

"Stole some lingerie from Victoria Secret once." Raven shrugged. Bart was dared to take off his shirt, Wally revealed the time he wet himself in second grade and cried until his mom picked him up from school. Artemis was dared to lick Wally. And after a while, the circle came back to Dick.

"When did you lose your V-card?" Wally asked, "Details please."

Dick sighed and took a long, drawn out chug from the bottle of cheap rum, "I was 15. She was 23. It was a mistake and I regret it every day because now I just fuck my sadness away."

He raised the bottle in a toast. A few more layers came off, more embarrassing truths were revealed. Dick was dared to become Wally's pet. Dick straddled Wally's thigh and licked up his neck and the side of his face. He laughed in the crook of Wally's neck until they fell over. He was feeling warm and blissfully unaware of reality.

"I dare you to fuck me." Wally slurred. Dick giggled and collapsed on his chest.

"We should get married. Oh my god that's such a good idea." Dick sat up.

"You're right. I love you, Dick, you're so smart." Wally said, eyes closed on the floor. The group laughed at his brilliant idea. Dick felt a rock form in his chest. 

"Artemis." He fell backwards and bat his eyelashes at her, "Can I have more? Pretty please?" 

Artemis handed him a bottle of vodka. He chugged a third of the bottle and handed it back. No pain tonight. It was Wally's birthday. Only happy here.

~*~

Dick ended up calling his Dad after crying in the bathroom for half an hour. Bruce helped sneak him out, which wasn't as hard as he thought. 

Dick sat in the passanger seat of the car. Bruce's face was hard set in stone, or Dick was just too drunk to notice his expression. 

"I'm really sorry, Dad." Dick slurred, "I knew I shouldn't have drank anything. I knew it was dumb. I'm a big dumb baby." 

"I don't think you're a big dumb baby." Bruce tried to reassure him. 

"Nuh uh. Can't do anything right ever. I fell and hurt myself and then I made Connor cheat on his girlfriend and I always take Jason out to do dumb stuff with me and I got way too drunk at my boyfriend's party. And I don't even really like him. He's just kinda there and I know that once I get bored I'll just move on the someone else. I'm dumb idiot baby and I don't-"

"Dick." Bruce said firmly. Dick was about to burst into tears again, but he stayed quiet, "We can talk in the morning about this."

"Okay, Dad." Dick curled up tighter in the car seat. His chest ached, his stomach hurt, a part of him wished he could drink himself to death. But he'd never tell a soul. 

It was one in the morning when they got to the manor. Bruce helped Dick stumble up to his bedroom. He helped him change into pajamas and brush his teeth. He was getting Dick into bed when he slumped into Bruce's stomach. 

"You're so hot, Dad. Like so hot." Dick laughed and let his hands rest on Bruces stomach.

"Don't." Bruce warned. 

"Aw. I wanted to make out with Daddy and be happy again." Dick muttered. He wasn't really sure what he was saying. Bruce gripped Dick's chin firmly, not letting him move. 

"Do not make me repeat myself." Bruce threatened. He hardly ever did, but Dick was out of hand. He broke back down into the sad little husk and sobbed into his dad's shirt. 

"I'm sorry, Dad. I don't know what to do. I'd be better off dead." He mumbled into Bruce's stomach. Bruce softly stroked his hair. 

"Thats not true. Why don't I have Jason come keep an eye on you tonight. You love Jason." Bruce asked. 

"Okay." Dick hiccuped, "Jason is good."

Bruce left Dick alone, curled up in bed. But it didn't take long for Jason to appear and get him tucked into the covers. He crawled in up next to him, "If you need to just rant for a while, I can't hear you. So you can say whatever you want and I can't tell anyone."

"I'm just so sad and tired all the time. And I just wanna be with people, they're all so good and soft and nice. Makes me feel good, but it always hurts again after. I just keep getting sucked into these holes and I can't get out and I'm always scared of everything." Dick cried. His words all blended together as he curled up closer to Jason. 

"Is that all?" He asked quietly.

"I feel like I don't belong here. I feel like no one wants me. I don't wanna die." He choked on that last word.

~*~

"Jason, have you seen Dick today?" Bruce asked at lunch. He wanted to talk to him. 

"I don't think he's gotten out of bed. He's pretty hungover, and he doesn't remember much of anything." Jason told him. 

"I figured. How's he doing?" Bruce asked. Jason shrugged. 

"He won't talk to me. I think he's embarrassed by the whole thing." He said. Bruce sighed and walked up to his room.

He sat on Dick's bed with him. His eyes were red and his cheeks stained with tears, "What?" 

"I want to talk." Bruce said quietly, "I'm not upset that you got drunk at a party. You're a teenager, it's expected. But, you also said some really worrying stuff. Let's talk and figure something out."

"I'm not really in the mood." He hid under the covers.

"Are you taking your meds?" Bruce asked. 

"Yeah." Dick groaned, "They don't do anything most of the time." 

"Do you want to see Damian's therapist?" He asked. 

"Maybe. I don't know. What exactly did I say?" Dick popped out from under the covers and bit his lips. 

"You called yourself a dumb idiot baby, and you said you're only dating Wally for the sex, and you wish you were dead, and you tried hitting on me-"

"Ew." Dick's face scrunched up, "I must've been really sad to go there."

"What?" Bruce asked. 

"I don't use sex as a coping mechanism. And I'm pretty sure I wasn't so upset that I was just trying to fuck the first person I saw to feel better." Dick shook his head and covered his eyes with his arm, "Please don't be upset." 

"You didn't try to sleep with Jason after I had him keep an eye on you." Bruce raised an eyebrow. 

"I'd say that's because he's my brother, but I guess drunk me is just going full Lanister. I think it's because Jason is ace." Dick said. His voice was scratchy and hoarse. 

"Ace?" 

"He doesn't feel sexual attraction. He has no need or desire to have sex." Dick explained. Bruce nodded. 

"Well, I'll have Alfred bring up some water for you. Rest up, think about therapy." Bruce left him alone once more.

He saw Damian with a basket of toys on his way to Dick's room. 

"What are you doing?" Bruce asked.

"Dick got sad drunk last night. I want to help. I made everyone name tags." Damian held up his basket. His stuffed animals all had little cards tock tags tied around their necks with ribbon. All labeled in big, easy to read letters written in red marker.

"I don't know if Dick is up for it right now." Bruce said. 

"Can I ask? If he says no then I'll help tomorrow after school." Damian said. Bruce sighed.

"Ask, but be very quiet and respectful of his space." Bruce reminded him. Damian nodded and opened the door. Dick was drinking some water and messing around on his phone.

"Dick." Damian whispered. Dick smiled at his little brother, "Dad said you're sad."

"You don't need to whisper. Come on up." Dick pat his bed. Damian set his basket on the bed and climbed up, "You brought toys?"

"Do you want to talk about it? I would like your help understanding so we know how to make you feel better." Damian sat cross legged on his bed.

"Okay. Let's talk." Dick looked in the basket. He picked out a few animals and set them up neatly in a row. Five animals. Just like the five posters on the wall. And the five stickers on his laptop. And the rocks bunched in groups of five. 

He picked out sad Cat, guilty Pig, yucky Mouse, angry Dog, and nervous Kangaroo. Damian stared at the neat little row. 

"What are they doing?" Damian asked. 

"What do you mean?" 

"Feelings don't just sit there. Where are they? What are they doing?" Damian poked at the animals, "Usually angry is in my head, and sad is in my belly, and nervous likes to jump on my chest until it hurts."

"Okay. Cat is here, in my chest. She's trying to dig into the middle. Pig is burrowing up from my belly, I think he's racing Cat. Dog is down here, he's barking at Pig. Pig doesn't belong here, he should go back to the farm. Mouse is scurrying all up and down, sometimes in my stomach, sometimes in my head, she's just everywhere all the time. Kangaroo keeps kicking me in the head, she wants me to remember what I said last night." Dick explained. Damian nodded. 

Mouse must be scared because of all the other animals. Maybe Dog is scaring Pig and making him run away. If he could make Dog quiet, Pig might stop burrowing. Damian moved the rest of his toys and handed dog to Dick. 

"Tell him to stop scaring the animals. He's angry, tell him why that's not helping you right now." Damian said. 

"You are not making me feel better." Dick said to the stuffed dog, "It's okay to let guilt come in sometimes. You don't need to be mad because we feel guilty. We did a bad thing last night, we can feel bad about our mistakes, even if we knew. Let him in, we can talk and work something out."

"Now let dog go away. You don't need him right now." Damian said. Dick took a deep breath and made the toy hop away into the basket.

"How big is cat?" Damian asked, "Is it Alfred the cat sized? Or is it like the sphinx?"

"Sphinx. Or bigger." Dick said. He felt like he was being crushed by those big stone paws. 

"That means Pig can't get out. He's stuck stuck in his hole and Cat is plugging up the exit. And Cat is too big right now. If we could distract her we could maybe let Pig out." Damian squinted at his toys. 

"What about Kangaroo?" Dick asked. 

"Why is she kicking you?" Damian looked up at him. 

"Because I got blackout drunk and I don't know what I did last night." Dick said. 

"Can you do anything to find out?" Damian blinked. Dick pulled out his phone. He looked a little frantic, "Once you do everything you can, you can tell her to go away. She always leaves eventually."

Dick sighed, "So what do we do about Cat?"

"Let's go distract her until she's a little smaller. Take a bath. Cats don't like baths. Then we can go watch a movie or play a game until she's small enough to handle."

Dick smiled and hugged Damian.

~*~

_Dick got blackout drunk at a party last night. I'm worried about him_

Bruce didn't know what to do. He sat quietly in his study, trying to think. He needed a game plan, and he needed someone to bounce off of. Alfred was worried anough as is, he didn't need Bruce adding to that.

**To be a reckless teenager again**

_He called me to pick him up in the middle of the night and he cried and told me he wished he was dead_

**Oh**

Bruce sighed. He was frustrated. He refused to let any of his kids get to his low. He would not let that happen. He trusted Dick, even now, in this moment. Bruce was confident Dick knew what he was doing. 

**No alcohol? Like ever? That sounds bad**

_Probably. Going to talk about therapy when the hangover wears off_

**Good idea. He's a good kid.**

**Someone knocked quietly. It creaked open slowly. Dick snuck in and Bruce held out his arms. He hugged his boy as tightly as he could.**

**"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let that happen." Dick said quietly.**

**"Again, I'm not upset about what happened. I'm worried. I'm worried you're just ignoring problems. You need to talk to someone. Medication alone isn't going to make this go away." Bruce explained. Dick nodded.**

**"I think I should see a therapist." He told him.**

**"That sounds like a good idea." Bruce nodded, "I'll call and make an appointment."**


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick gets help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Mental illness, canonical violence, smoking
> 
> TW: Use of the word rape

Dinah sat in front of Dick, watching. He shifted in his seat.

"You're Damian's oldest brother?" She asked. Dick nodded, "What brings you in?"

"I have problems." He stated. He wasn't sure why he felt so defensive here. 

"What sort of problems?" She had her legs crossed and he elbow resting on her knee, propping her chin up gently. 

"A lot."

"A list then perhaps." She suggested. 

"Well, my entire family was killed when I was eight. I'm convinced I'm a danger to myself and others, and none of my relationships actually mean anything. I was maybe sexually assaulted, I'm not sure. I have sex instead of feeling sad. I do things I don't want to because I think people will like me more." Dick listed off. He watched Dinah scribble down notes in her pristine little notebook.

"Why aren't you sure it was assault?" She asked.

"I was 15, she was 23, we were both a few drinks in, afterward she stole my money and left." Dick hated this story. He hated that night. 

"But?" 

"But I said yes." Dick tried to push it down, go numb. Just make it go away before it hurt. 

"Legally, that is rape. But more importantly, did you find it upsetting or uncomfortable?" She asked. Dick nodded not making eye contact, "Then your answer is yes. Tell me about how your family died."

"Murdered. The circus is a shady business to be in, and the ring leader got on the bad side of the New York mob. Mom pushed me in the costume closet with her phone and told me to call the police. I barely spoke English, but I guess I did good enough. They came and got me out a while later." Dick forced his heart to beat normally. He couldn't hurt, he needed to just stay happy and positive and everything would go away. 

"You were eight. Was that scary? Did you know what was going on?" She asked.

"Of course it was scary. I had no idea what was going on at the time. I heard names thrown around a lot before. I knew there were guns outside. I knew I was in trouble." He felt fear bubble up in his chest. He was back in the closet, with cheap sequins and plastic feathers making his skin itch. He remembered the sound of guns, and worse was the quiet that followed. Dinah tossed a Kirby plush to him. She stayed quiet and let him feel it. Squish his soft round body, pet his fuzzy little cone arms. Dick focused on how the Kirby looked, how it felt, what it made him think of. 

"What did you do?" She asked. 

"I stood and waited. I tried not to cry and make noise. I told the police where I was. They found me, and talked to me in our trailer. They didn't let me outside until they moved the bodies." Dick said. He squished Kirby's feet. He tried to breathe through the tears, damming them in.

"I'm going to set a timer for one minute. I want you to just cry. No talking, just cry." Dinah tapped at her phone, "Okay, go."

Dick burst open. He'd never really cried over his family's death. He cried at the funeral, and he cried just after, but he never process cried. He never allowed himself to hurt and feel pain. It felt so good, a release of powerful, almost painful energy. His chest burned. It was cathartic, something he could do. Years of sobbing fits all rushed out at once. He hiccuped, he screamed, he pulled his hair. 

"Done." Dinah turned her phone off. Dick let out one last sob and let himself breathe through the tears. She handed him a box of tissues and let him wipe his eyes. 

"When did you learn English?" She asked. 

"I learned a few words and phrases when I was little. I could ask for things, I could say hello and thank you, I could tell people I didn't speak English, stuff like that. But Bruce taught me most of it." Dick wiped his nose and threw the tissue away, "I could hold a pretty decent conversation when Jason showed up."

"Did you ever feel excluded because of the language barrier?"

"Of course. I was a loud, flamboyant, eccentric Russian kid who was desperate to befriend anyone and everyone. I was an easy target." Dick felt himself locking up. He was holding back information. She wasn't allowed to know certain things anymore. She couldn't know that he taught the girls how to make flower crowns. She couldn't know that the boys hid all his books and filled his bag with rose petals and glitter. She couldn't know that they pushed him into the fountain. She couldn't know his clothes got stolen during PE.

"Do you think you put on an act to make kids like you?" Dinah tapped her pen lightly on her notebook.

"Talking to people is always an act. I'm a performer at heart, so I perform." Dick sat up a little straighter, let his legs fall back a little wider. Making himself big and threatening.

"Do you find always acting exhausting?" 

"No. I love it." Dick smiled, "Jason says Japan has some proverb about three faces and you have a face for public and a face for alone or something. I like my three faces."

"Interesting." Dinah smirked and wrote something down, "You have a boyfriend, right?" Dick nodded, "Do you perform for him?" 

Dick hesitated. He didn't know what the right answer was. He could admit to pretending to like him more than he really did, but that would be too close. She had to stay at a distance. He could lie, but that would go against what he just said. He had to tread very carefully. 

"Don't think so hard. Just answer." She urged. 

"Yes." Dick bit his cheek, "I'm mostly in it for sex."

"Do you think it's compulsive?" She tilted her head. Dick blinked. He never thought about it. His compulsions were usually checking the lock on his window, asking people if they still liked him, singing 20 seconds of All Star when he washed his hands and no more, counting the stairs and always skipping the last step. He hadn't considered sex might be on the list. 

"Maybe." His voice was quiet. 

"Are you trying to regain control over yourself?" She asked. 

"I don't know." Dick said. He knew the answer was yes, but he also knew the right answer was to not know. He was supposed to dwell on it, think it over, come back with a conclusion.

~*~

Bruce was stressed. He was out in the park with Clark, trying to calm down. His chest was bunched up tight, his knee bounced on its own, he chewed his nails. Clark took Bruce's hands softly in his own. 

"What do you want to do for your birthday?" Clark rested his head on Bruce's shoulder. 

"I don't know, I never did much for my birthdays." Bruce wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"Why n-" 

Clark saw something. His face went pale. He stood up and dragged Bruce along behind him, "Let's walk for a while."

"What's going on?" Bruce pulled his hand away, "You're being ridicu-" 

"Clark Kent?" A man to Bruce's right asked, "Are you with Bruce Wayne?" 

"Hi Jim." Clark sighed, "Bruce, this is a coworker of mine."

"We're doing an interview." Bruce snapped. That sounded meaner than he meant it to. 

"Are you sure? You were looking awfully close back there." Jim scratched the back of his head, "And Bruce has that whole secret boyfriend thing and-" 

"Please don't tell anyone." Clark muttered. Bruce craved a cigarette. 

"Clark, this is a huge threat to your job. Is this-" 

"We know. That's why he's my secret boyfriend." Bruce rolled his eyes, "'Sorry, I'm not usually this mean. My kid is going through some stuff right now."

"Please don't tell Perry." Clark begged.

"He should know. He'd know how to handle this. Half your reporting is about Bruce, you can't just date him." Jim swayed back and forth.

"Leave him alone." Bruce turned back to his boyfriend, "If something happens then I can always bail you out. It's not hard."

Bruce took his hand and pulled him away from Jim. Clark was hyperventilating. 

"Bruce, what if I lose my job? How am I gonna pay rent? How will I buy food? How am I-" 

Bruce pulled him in for a kiss. Clark melted into him, "I have two houses. Pick one."

"What?" Clark blinked at him. 

"I have the manor. And I have the penthouse. If you lose your apartment, you can move in with me and the kids, or you can move into a beautiful modern penthouse on your own." Bruce shrugged. 

"But I wouldn't be able to afford rent." Clark whispered. 

"For you, rent will be one cute date or one mind-blowing orgasm a month." Bruce told him, "Shouldn't be a problem, right?" 

"But, I-" 

"Clark. Look at me. I couldn't give less of a shit about making money off of you. I have places to stay if you need it. I have the best food money can buy, vacation days galore, and money to spoil you rotten." Bruce held his cheeks, "It's not a big deal."

~*~

Bruce wandered out to the courtyard. Jason was sucking down a cigarette and reading on the patio. He saw Bruce, sat up and hid the cigarette behind his back.

"Have one I can snag from you?" Bruce scratched the back of his head. Jason stared and slowly slid his half empty carton and a lighter over. Bruce lit a cigarette. He missed the waves of calm that washed over him.

"Why are you smoking?" Jason whispered, eyes still wide. 

"Because I'm stressed and I feel like being a bad dad right now." Bruce said. Jason hesitantly pulled his cigarette back out and stuck it between his teeth. 

"Dick is okay?" Jason asked. 

"Probably." Bruce shrugged, "I don't know. Clark and Dick both have had a day and I'm worn out."

"I guess fair." Jason nodded. 

"Why are you wearing your hearing aids when you're just out here alone? You hate them. You always complain about how uncomfortable they are." Bruce still felt new to having a hard of hearing kid. 

"Trees sound nice when it's not too windy." Jason said with a small shrug. They sat and smoked together in silence, just listening to the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise we will get to more Clark centric chapters soon!


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark gets in trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still trying to figure out a schedule that works with the other fic I'm currently writing. So bear with me while I find a good routine.

"You wanted to see me, Perry?" Clark closed the office door behind him.

"It's come to my attention that you've been romantically involved with Bruce Wayne. Is that accurate?" He asked. Clark hung his head, "I'll take that as a, yes Sir. I'm sure you understand why that may not be the best choice for your current line of work?"

"Yes, Sir." Clark nodded, "Bruce is a major player in the feild of political and business journalism. And a close relationship with him creates bias that discredits any articles written about him."

"Good." His boss smiled, "Now, the way I see it, we've got two options. We could either move you into another department, and we can discuss your options there. Or I'll have to let you go."

"Where would I move to?" Clark picked his head back up.

"Your talents lend themselves well to investigation, possibly crime. I've actually been meaning to talk to you about moving for a while." Perry told him, "You do better getting out and talking to people."

"Crime?" Clark sat down on the other side of Perry's desk. 

"Yes. Especially if you're spending more time in Gotham. Place is overrun by serial killers, theives, and the goddam mafia. Hell, you could start up a true crime column on the side." Perry told him.

"What would that entail?" Clark leaned forward, "Doing true crime and reporting in Gotham?" 

"Well, I can't give you a raise on base pay. However, running a column as well as doing normal investigative reporting would get you publishing more and giving you a higher bonus. You'd be a lot busier with research, but I think you'd enjoy the work more." Perry explained.

"Just, more interviews?"

"And more speculation. More analysis. Investigative journalism isn't easy."

"I'll do it." Clark said. He could open with the Wayne murder. He had Bruce Wayne himself at his disposal whenever. Maybe he could even do a piece on the Haly Cirus Massacre.

"Fantastic. You have one rule, you are not allowed to break news on Bruce Wayne or any major competitors to the Wayne Foundation." Perry looked at him sternly. 

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir." Clark grinned and stood up.

"Take the rest of the day off to tie up any lose ends in business. I'll have the web designers start work on a true crime column and you can report to investigation tomorrow morning." Perry shook his hand.

~*~

"Hell yeah." Bruce smiled over the phone, "What are you going to work on first?" 

"I was hoping to use you to my advantage and write about Thomas and Martha." Clark told him, "Is that alright?" 

"Sure. Plenty of people have already done it, but they don't have a first person account of what happened." Bruce said. He had a passion for conspiracy theories. 

"My thoughts exactly! And if Dick is feeling up for it, maybe Haly Circus?" Clark asked. 

"Maybe wait a while. He's been having a rough time lately." Bruce resisted the urge to light one of the cigarettes he bought, "You should come over and let us take pictures so we can break the news about Bruce's mystery boyfriend."

"I'll get pretty and catch a cab down." Clark said as he hung up the phone. Bruce smiled.

"Dick!" He shouted. His boy appeared in the doorway, "Can you help us take cute couple pictures that will make me sick but the internet will like?"

"Are you going to actually tell people about Clark?" Dick asked. 

"Yep. Just got off the phone with him." Bruce leaned back on the counter.

"I can take cute couple photos." Dick nodded, "You have such a good black and white Instagram feed."

~*~

Dick sat the pair of them in Bruce's bedroom. Tim pushed the mess out of the way of the camera and Dick snapped pictures. Jason criticized every shit, eventually taking the phone and snapping the pictures himself. He would instruct them to do something cute and coupley and immediately make over exaggerated gagging noises. 

They stood by big windows, sat in the windowsill, layed in bed together, Tim brought up a white dining chair for them to sit in by the windows.

"Okay, let me tweak some of these a little and I'll show you what we've got." Jason sat on the bed and messed with the pictures. Clark took out his laptop and typed away at his work.

"What are you up to?" Bruce asked. 

"Finishing up the last couple articles I had going before I transfer over." Clark said. Bruce rested his head on his shoulder and watched him type. 

"Dad," Damian wandered in the room, "I need help with math homework."

"What are you working on right now?" Bruce asked.

"Geometry." Damian told him. Bruce got up out of the big bed. 

"I've got headphones you can use if you want. You can work in my office if you need somewhere quiet." Bruce kissed Clark's cheek.

"Thank you, dear." He smiled up at him. 

"Let's go do some geometry homework." He followed Damian out to the dining room. After a few problems, Jason walked into the room. He handed Bruce the phone and showed him the pictures. 

They were lovely. Clark grinning up at him in bed. Bruce gazing lovingly behind him as Clark wrapped his arms around his waist by the big bedroom windows. One stray picture of Tim grinning and making a peace sign in the background while Clark snuggled up against Bruce's back and under his arm.

"I thought that one was funny." Jason told him.

"Keep it. It's very Tim to do that." Bruce said, "Run those by Clark and send them to me to post."

A few minutes later the pictures popped up in a notification. Bruce downloaded them and typed up a caption. 

_Meet my secret boyfriend, Clark. After six months, I'm so happy to be able to share you with the world. And thank you for coming over and letting my kids take pictures of us being cute while teasing us relentlessly. I love you._

A few hashtags later, adding Clark's handle, and off it went into the ether that is Instagram. He turned back to Damian.

"So, Mr. Olsen's garden patch is seven feet by four feet. How much space does he have?" Bruce asked. He drew out a little box.

"28." Damian answered.

"28 what?" Bruce raised an eyebrow. 

"Feet?" 

"Feet in a square is called what?" Bruce asked. 

"Square feet. 28 square feet." Damian scribbled the answer down on his packet. Bruce high fived him.

Tim and Jason joined the pair for Spanish homework. Tim was horrible at Spanish, he forgot vocab, he couldn't wrap his head around grammar, it was hard. 

"You've gotta roll the R in perro. Pero is kind of like saying but, and perro is dog. The R is important." Jason told him.

"I can't roll my R though." Tim shook his head.

"Then draw it out longer. Make them sound different." Jason explained, "It sounds weird if you don't."

"El perro persigue al gato." Tim read again.

"Better." Jason told him. He pointed to the word box on his worksheet.

"Ew, homework party." Dick leaned up against the door. 

"If you've got work to get done, now is the time." Bruce told him. Damian was scribbling down equations. 

"I have to read Hamlet. But I do not have the patience to learn another English." Dick said.

"Clark is working on some stuff right now, but when he's done you could ask him for help. He was an English major." Bruce told him.

"No. I'll figure it out." Dick shook his head. Bruce raised an eyebrow. 

"It's good exposure therapy. Go up and ask without saying you're sorry. And don't tell him I said you had to." Bruce challenged him. Dick sighed and turned to leave. 

~*~

Clark was just about to head downstairs when he bumped into Dick. 

"Hey, what's up?" Clark asked with a smile. 

"Could you help me read Hamlet for school? Dad said you might be able to." Dick but the inside of his cheek. Clark saw him tugging at the hem of his shirt.

"Sure. I just sent off my last article. Just having a hard time reading it?" Clark asked. He remembered he really needed the right mindset to really read Shakespeare. 

"Yeah. I'm not a big reader as is, and it's so far away from normal English and it's just hard." Dick scratched the back of his neck and started bouncing his heels. 

"Everyone has a hard time with it. Which scene are you doing?" Clark smiled. 

"Act 1, scene 5." Dick crossed his arms.

"Great. Let's see if we can grab some actors from downstairs." Clark smiled. 

~*~

It didn't take long before they had a small cast gathered in the parlor. Clark assigned Dick the part of Hamlet and handed him a pen. Jason requested the part of the ghost, and draped a blanket around his shoulders like a cape. Damian and Tim played the parts of Horatio and Marcellus.

"Why aren't you up there? You were the theater kid." Clark teased his boyfriend. 

"I did musical theater." Bruce reminded him. 

"So get up there and belt out some show tunes for us." Clark smiled. Bruce rolled his eyes. 

"Master Clark, I do believe I have some old tapes downstairs that need converting." Alfred looked over to him, "Would you be so kind as to aid my review of them?" 

"Hell no." Bruce shook his head, "I know what's on those tapes and it's nothing good."

"I would love to help you look through them." Clark smiled at Alfred, "But Dick needs to do homework so everyone watch."

"Where wilt thou lead me? Speak! I'll go no further." Dick read from his homework packet. 

"Mark me!" Jason read from his phone off of sparknotes. 

"Clark what does that mean? Why should I mark him?" Dick asked. 

"Listen to him. Like mark my words." Clark explained. Dick nodded.

"I will." Dick read out.

"My hour is almost come, when I to sulfurous and tormenting flames must render up myself." Jason waggeled his fingers at Dick. 

"Oh fuck." Dick gasped. 

"Hamlet doesn't say fuck." Bruce called out. 

"I mean, basically. Alas poor ghost is just saying oh fuck a ghost." Dick defended.

"It's a family production." Bruce glared. 

"I still know what fuck is, Dad." Damian yelled from the corner of the room. 

"Can I say fuck?" Tim raised his hand. 

"No one gets to say fuck except me, Clark, and I guess Alfred if he ever feels like it." Bruce announced. 

"Aw. I wanted to say it." Tim pouted. 

"Okay, Dick. Alas poor ghost." Bruce gestured for him to continue. 

"Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing to what I shall unfold." Jason said dramatically.

"I hate all the thee and thou garbage. Just stick with you. It's so much easier." Dick grumbled and scribbled on his packet, "What?"

"Okay Jason, this is more beefy. Go slow." Clark instructed.

"Do you just have Hamlet memorized?" Dick stared at him. 

"Yeah. I took a class that was just analyzing Hamlet and part of the grade was performing Hamlet in groups and sending in a recording." Clark said, "It sucked. We weren't actors. I got stuck with the ghost in Act one and Hamlet in Act three."

"Of course you did. Two biggest soliloquies in the play." Bruce smirked and rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Mr. Jack Kelly. I did." Clark defended.

"Alright. Fair enough." Bruce held his hands up in surrender to watch his boys perform Hamlet in their living room as Dick muttered under his breath in Russian and took notes.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark's first day on the job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Mentions of canonical violence, mentions of gun violence, mentions of smoking

Clark's first day on the new job. He came in, and introduced himself to the host of new characters. There was Annie, and Chris, and Maurice, and Leslie. He sat down at his new desk and started his research into the Wayne murderers. 

He knew the story, everyone knew the story. It was a national tragedy. Thomas and Martha Wayne were taking their son to the movies and got shot in a mugging gone wrong. 

And really, that was all the facts he had to go on. The murder happened at 10:47 outside the Monarch Theater after they went to a showing of the Mark of Zorro. He read old police reports and news articles. He found old photographs of the Wayne's all together as a family. It was heartbreaking.

Bruce told police that a man had demanded Martha's necklace and Thomas's watch. He said Thomas pushed him back, behind his parents. Martha was too slow getting her necklace off and the man pulled it off of her, breaking the string of pearls. He said he heard sirens and the man shot Thomas and Martha as he ran. 

And then came the theories. Everyone seemed to have a different idea of who did it. Most people generally believe it was a man by the name of Joe Chill. Clark was convinced that was a fake name. He had lost his kitchen job a week prior to the murder. He was known as a deadbeat who was always in need of money. His daughter reported he was always at her door asking for something. And he was seen a block over shortly before the mugging. Once a friend told police Chill called him the morning after the story broke and confessed to the murder. 

Some connect bankrobber, Lew Moxon to the murder. Saying he hired Chill to fake a mugging to kill the Wayne's. Ten years before the murder, Moxon threatened Thomas at gunpoint to remove a bullet embedded in his shoulder. Thomas performed the operation and turned him in. Moxon went to prison for 10 years, swearing revenge on trial.

The final theory seemed a bit outlandish to Clark, but this is what little eight year old Bruce believed. The Court of Owls were a supposed secret society that controlled Gotham like the Illuminati. People say they were angry at the reforms made to Gotham by Thomas and needed to take him out. Some said they hired Joe Chill, and some say it was an inside job. 

Clark sat back and rubbed his eyes. He needed a break from murder and mystery for a minute. He stood and took a walk around the office. 

"Hey new guy." Leslie nudged him. She was a sweet woman in her 50s. 

"Hey. What are you working on?" He asked her, pouring a cup of coffee. It was almost noon, but he needed to relax a little. And his perfered choice of relaxation was drinking the go fast bean juice. 

"Story about a Syrian warlord. You?" She poured herself a cup. 

"Wayne murders for a true crime column I'm starting." Clark told her. 

"Oh interesting. I remember when that happened. I was in high school. I wonder what Bruce is doing these days." She pondered. 

"I'm actually pretty close with Bruce. That's why I picked it. Thought I could get a good angle on the thing." Clark nodded. He hoped that wasn't a huge bomb that just dropped. 

"You? Close to Bruce Wayne? No way." Leslie rolled her eyes. 

"Yeah." Clark nodded, "I'm surprised too."

"Are you dating Bruce Wayne?" Annie bounced up to them. Her dark hair was straightened neatly. She had sweet little doe eyes, "I follow him on Instagram." 

"Yes. Actually. We've been together. For a while." Clark stared down into his cup. Leslie raised an eyebrow. Annie showed her the pictures on her phone. 

"He has kids?" Leslie asked when she saw Tim. 

"Four." Clark nodded, "They're great. I love them." 

"And your breakthrough story is about your boyfriend's parents dying?" Leslie chuckled. 

"I talked to him about it first, then Perry, and when everyone was on board I started writing." Clark explained.

"What's Bruce like in real life?" Annie clasped her hands in front of her chest. 

"He's a sweetheart. He's pretty quiet, a little awkward, kind of odd at times. He has absolutely no concept of money at all. I once saw him give his son $200 to buy honey and almonds for a dessert they were making." Clark said. 

"His kids are probably spoiled brats." Leslie grumbled. 

"Actually they're all pretty good kids. Bruce is a great dad." Clark sipped his coffee, "Not the most traditional, but it works well."

"He seems like he'd be a little eccentric." Annie whispered to herself as she hurried back to her desk. 

"She's a cutie but she's addicted to Xanax." Leslie sipped her coffee.

"What?" Clark felt uneasy. 

"Chris has orthorexia and Maurice is a member of an underground gang of street fighters." Leslie said.

"Joe I'm scared to know what you've dug up on me." Clark took a step away from her. 

"No idea yet. But give it time." Leslie walked away. Clark walked back to his desk. 

~*~

Clark and Bruce wrapped themselves up in blankets on the couch. Alfred had converted several tapes to digital files already and hooked his laptop up in the theater room. Alfred sat on the couch while the video flickered to life. It was grainy and oddly colored, just as a VHS tape should be. 

On the screen was a beautiful blonde woman with feathered out hair and bright blue eyes. Her striped sweater and red flared pants were telling of the time. She reminded Clark of Farrah Fawcett. He felt Bruce melt a little when he saw her. She smiled at the camera and waved. 

"Come say hi to Daddy." She called off screen. A little Bruce wearing a striped yellow shirt and red Pooh bear overalls ran into frame. Martha scooped him up MD brought him closer to the camera, "Say hi."

"Hi, Daddy." Bruce mumbled and hid in his mom's shirt. 

"Hi, Brucie boy. Can you tell me how old you are?" The cameraman asked. Bruce held up two chubby little baby fingers, "Are you excited about the new camera? Now we can make our very own movies at home."

Bruce giggled and Martha kissed his cheek. The camera cut to the next clip. 

This time Martha was holding the camera. Thomas was asleep on the couch, Bruce curled up next to him. He looked so much like his dad. Thomas was a little scrawnier, but the resemblance was almost uncanny. 

"Wakey wakey." She called in a sing song voice, "It's time for dinner."

Thomas groaned and pulled his son closer to him. Martha stepped forward and kicked him. Thomas cracked his eyes open, 

"Babe, why are you filming?" His voice was hoarse with sleep. 

"Because there's a surprise." Martha told him. Thomas stretched and sat up. Bruce stayed asleep, "Can you get Bruce?"

Thomas picked up his son and held him on his hip, Bruce fell limp against his shoulder. Martha took them into the other room. She had decorated the whole room with camoflauge banners and pink balloons and streamers.

"Carter just announced WAC is abolished. All units are to be integrated with the army." Martha said. Thomas cheered and woke up Bruce. Thomas looked nervously at his baby and cheered again, quietly, under his breath, "I wanted to get your reaction to the news."

"This is amazing. A historic day." Thomas smiled, "Thank you dear."

Martha turned the camera around as Thomas kissed his cheek. 

More and more clips of Thomas, Martha, and little Bruce growing up. Sometime between school plays, Alfred started showing up. Bruce learned new words and his outfits changed. His hair went from messy toddler hair to the neatly parted style Clark knew from pictures. Clark watched, his heart heart in the best way it could. Bruce ended up in tears by the end.

Alfred moved a little closer and squeezed his hand softly. 

"Mom was pretty." Bruce said with a small smile. 

"She was lovely." Alfred smiled, "I have more tapes with them. More birthdays and anniversaries. However they're still awaiting conversion. Do we want to start on the rest of the tapes?" 

There was a heaviness in the air. A sense of definitive before and after. They had run out of before.

"Yeah, let's see how bad this can be." Bruce shifted, burying himself in Clark's torso. 

Alfred played the next video. Bruce was 13 in the middle school play about Pocahontas. He wasn't the lead role, he played some minor character, a friend of John Smith. He fell off the prop boat on the way to the New World. Clark wasn't sure if it was a mistake or not, but he just screamed for John Smith to pull him back up. 

"Was that on purpose?" He asked. 

"Yes of course. Don't you see the other kids looking at each other like they don't know what's going on. It was all planned." Bruce told him.

"Look at your little hat, and your prop gun." Clark pointed, "You were adorable."

John Rolfe was played by a much bigger, scarier looking kid. And Bruce's character had to report about the gold.

"You look like you're about to cry." Clark commented. 

"I was an acting prodigy." Bruce told him. Alfred smirked.

Next was his performance in Jungle Book as Bagheera when he was 15. The costume department decided to give the animals more modern looking outfits. Bruce was dressed in a sleek black suit. Clark had yet to hear him sing, but the director made Bagheera and Baloo act much more like Mowgli's gay uncles. 

"Bagheera, baby. I'll take care of it. Don't you worry." Baloo grinned at Bruce and wrapped an arm around his waist, "And maybe later you and me can play with our own prickly pears."

"Baloo!" Bruce gasped loudly on stage, "Not in front of the child."

"The offer's still on the table?" Baloo shrugged and wandered to Mowgli. 

"And you still insist you never thought about being gay?" Clark whispered in his ear. 

"He thought the joke would be funny." Bruce shrugged, "And he was a senior, so I didn't question it. Maybe it was a little weird now that I'm thinking about it."

"Did anything happen between you two?" Clark asked. 

"He kissed me before rehearsal once. He told me it might be fun to kiss on stage." Bruce said, "He was super weird actually. What the hell."

"That's not okay at all." Clark said, "We're you uncomfortable?" 

"No. I just went along with it." Bruce shrugged, "Alfred, play the next show."

Alfred clicked into the crowning jewel. Bruce playing Jack Kelly in Newsies. He even got a decent accent down for the role. 

"Do I finally get to hear you sing?" Clark teased. 

"Shut up and watch." Bruce said. Clark saw a small smile creep onto his face, "This was like a legitimate production. I was 17 and it was the first time I performed outside of school. Crutchy was actually from deep Brooklyn and had that accent normally so I copied off of him."

"Isn't this Manhattan?" 

"Yeah, but I sounded great." Bruce countered. Clark squeazed him gently.

"Oh my god." Clark whispered. Jack Kelly showed up still getting ready for the day, shirt unbuttoned and untucked, "You look so different now."

"I was a scrawny kid up until I got clean." Bruce said. Several of the kids were pretending to smoke fake cigars, and Bruce squirmed a little. Alfred left the room.

"Where's he going?" Clark asked. 

"Probably making popcorn or something." Bruce said.

"Why?" Clark tilted his head. 

"I was a pretty heavy smoker for eight, maybe nine years. I quit after Dick came around. I had a relapse a couple weeks ago. I let Alfred know, so he's been helping out." Bruce said. Clark nodded, "Eating helps occupy my mouth."

"I didn't know you smoked." Clark said.

"Yeah. I did it all." Bruce said. He picked at the hem of the blanket, pulling stitches out. Alfred returned with ice cream bars. Bruce sucked on his ice cream with a relief Clark hadn't seen from him.

Clark turned his attention back to the video. Bruce was belting out Santa Fe, his voice cracked, his lip quivered as he sang. Clark watched that boy so very different from his Bruce now cry on stage over a fictional best friend he'd just lost. 

"You were good." Clark kissed his cheek, his lips cold from the ice cream. 

"It was easy when Bruce and Jack Kelly both wanted nothing more than to run away." Bruce said. Alfred looked sad. 

"You did run away for a while." Clark combed through his hair. 

"I came home though. Came home to Alfred, and grew my own weird little broken family." Bruce said.

"You should perform again." Clark told him. 

"No. I'm too old for that now. I had my fun." Bruce joked. Alfred chuckled, "I should go check on the kids."

"I'd be happy do just that, Master Bruce." Alfred stood and gave a little bow. 

"Okay, remember to check Jason for cigarettes if he's outside." Bruce told him.

"As you wish, Sir." Alfred walked primly out of the room. Clark smiled and pulled him in for a kiss. 

"I'm glad you taste like ice cream and not tobacco." Clark told him.

"I'm glad I have a slightly lower chance of getting cancer." Bruce said and kissed him again, "Do you want to move in?" 

"I didn't lose my job though. I'm actually making more money." Clark said. 

"I know. But do you want to move in with me." Bruce asked. Clark blinked. 

"I don't know. I'd be so far away from work, and it's only been six months, and-" 

Bruce quieted him with a kiss, "Think about it for me?" 

"I'll think about it." Clark promised.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, Bruce.

It was Bruce's birthday. He didn't want to think about how old he was. He just wanted a few extra minutes of peace in bed. He phone buzzed on the table.

_Made breakfast with Alfred. Come down_

Dick was a sweetheart. Bruce groaned to himself and got out of bed. Every year, Alfred made Bruce chocolate waffles with whipped cream. It felt a little silly now, but it was tradition. He refused to get out of his pajamas. This was his day and he was going to be lazy and do nothing. 

Downstairs, Clark stood holding out a plate of chocolate waffles. Bruce's heart melted, the boys called his boyfriend to come over on his birthday. 

"Good morning, sunshine." He beamed like the teletubbies baby sun, but significantly less creepy. He was bright and giggly and full of joy.

"Good morning." Bruce rubbed his eyes, "Which of the boys invited you?" 

"I sort of invited myself, but it was Dick's idea to have me over for breakfast." Clark said, "Mom wanted to give you a present."

"Yeah? What is it?" Bruce sat at the table with his waffles. Clark picked up a box from the counter and handed it to him. Bruce ripped the paper off and took out a knitted sweater. Two thirds were gray, the top third across his shoulders was black. The colored were blended together with a geometric triangular design across his chest. 

"She said it's called fair isle knitting and she's very concerned with how well it fits." Clark smiled and held onto his arm.

"Let's try it on then." Bruce kissed him softly and took off his robe. He slipped it on over his t-shirt, "Fits."

"I'll let her know." Clark grinned, "And she also send me an impossibly long list of washing instructions that I will give to Alfred."

"Good plan. I don't know how to do laundry." Bruce shook his head.

"I hate that that makes sense." Clark said. 

"Where are my kids? Why hasn't someone screamed like they're dying?" Bruce asked. 

"Dick took everyone out to a movie. He said he'd be back tonight for cake and ice cream, but he thought you might like some time to yourself." Clark wrapped an arm around his shoulders. 

"My kids know me so well." Bruce sighed, "I love them so much."

"So what does the birthday boy want from me?" Clark asked.

"Don't call me birthday boy. I'm not a child." Bruce took a bite of waffle, "Come sit on my lap."

He held his arms out for Clark to squirm his way into them. Bruce pulled him into his lap and buried his face in his chest. Clark giggled and combed through his hair.

"You're the only billionaire in the world that has his sugar baby over for birthday breakfast and just wants them to sit on his lap in pajamas." Clark said.

"Well, I could do a lot more to you. However, it is only breakfast and I would like to take a nap." Bruce mumbled onto his shirt. 

"You just woke up."

"And it was exhausting." Bruce held him tighter.

"Then finish eating and take a nap with me." Clark kissed the top of his head. Bruce grumbled but did finish his waffles.

"Can I have one birthday cigarette. Please." Bruce asked.

"Absolutely not." Clark told him. Bruce groaned and let his head fall back.

It didn't take long to finish eating and put dishes in the sink for Alfred. The couple went up to his bedroom and snuggled up.

"Take off your jeans. Can't wear jeans for nap time." Bruce told him. Clark rolled his eyes and slipped off his jeans, "You wear terrible boxers."

"They're little cacti with sombreros on." Clark half a hand to his chest.

"They're pink."

"They're coral."

"Whatever you say dear." Bruce smiled. Clark crawled back in bed with him. Bruce wrapped his arms around his waist and snuggled up, head on his chest.

"I'll wake you up in 30 minutes." Clark told him and ran his fingers through his hair. Bruce mumbled something incoherent, already half asleep. 

~*~

Tim knew a lot more than he let on. He liked to stay in the background and not be noticed. That was the best way to get honest answers to questions he might not have known he had. That's how Tim knew how much stress his Dad had been under after Dick came home drunk. He'd seen him in the library after he'd forgetten Tim was there. He looked so tired.

Maybe sometimes his brain moved too fast for its own good, maybe sometimes things slipped through the cracks, but he wasn't stupid. He knew how anxious Dick was all the time. He was exhausted just thinking about it. He knew what it was like to get caught in a loop like a broken record, repeating over and over again. The difference was Tim would repeat the same unchanged word or maybe a phrase until he wanted to bash his skull in. Tim could play 'white rabbit' over and over again in his head until the syllables melted together in an unrecognizable mush of sounds.

Dick was repeating feelings. Feelings of stress, danger, fear, sadness, anger. He was never good enough. He always had more to give. He wasn't worth the love people showed him. Work harder, break your back so people will stay. 

Tim didn't know what that was like by any stretch of the imagination. But he understood.

So when Dick loaded them up for a trip to the movies, Tim didn't complain. Damian had started to protest, they should be with Dad on his birthday, it was important. Tim just took his hand and tried his best to send the right message. Dad needed to decompress from life, and Dick needed to prove to himself he deserved love.

"You can pick anything that's not caffeinated." Dick told him and handed him the paper cup, "You're already taking Adderall, you don't need caffeine too."

"Okay." He sighed dramatically. He resisted the urge to throw the cup when he took it. He didn't really want to throw it, but his arm sure did. 

"Dick, do you think Dad has condoms at the house?" Damian pulled on his shirt. 

"I don't know, but I'm sure he'll be safe and make good choices." Dick pat his shoulder. Damian nodded, seemingly satisfied.

"Why do you know so much about sex?" Tim asked.

"I don't know. I read a lot?" Damian shrugged. 

"I don't think you should read books about sex yet." Tim shook his head. 

"They're not about sex. They just have it in them sometimes." He said. 

"Gross." He whispered to himself. Damian's eyes went wide and he ran to hide behind Tim, "Why are you so weird?"

"I saw Jon." Damian muttered.

"You like Jon, why are you hiding?" Tim tried to turn around, but Damian hugged him from behind to keep him still.

"Because he just found out that I'm gay and I don't want him to be mad." Damian whispered. 

"Hi Damian." Jon snuck up next to them, making Damian jump and turn to face him. 

"Hi." He squeaked. Tim smirked to himself. 

"What movie are you watching?" He smiled. His shaggy black hair looked soft and fluffy.

"Sonic." Damian didn't really make eye contact.

"Me too." Jon giggled, "Do you wanna sit together? I could ask my friends if we could sit alone together."

Damian blushed and looked up at Tim. He gave him an encouraging smile. 

"Sure. If you don't mind." Damian's voice was an octave higher than usual. He sounded like a squeaky little mouse. 

"Okay, you go ask your people and I'll ask mine. Then meet back here?" Jon tilted his head. Damian nodded and scurried away, staring at the tacky geometric print carpet. Tim followed, eager to see what would follow. 

"Jon invited me to sit with him for the movie? Is that okay?" Damian asked Dick, his face flushed red. A smile spread across Dick's face.

"Absolutely. But if you're uncomfortable, it's okay to tell him no. And here's my phone, pass code is 071511. If you have trouble finding us afterward, call Jason." Dick grinned and handed him his phone, "Go have fun."

Tim watched as he met back up with Jon. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but he saw Jon take his hand and walk with him to the ticket booth. 

~*~

After the movie, Damian was dazed and happy. Jon had said his goodbyes and was walking away when he said, "Wait! I almost forgot."

He hurried back over to the group of Wayne's and kissed Damian on the cheek. Sweet, chaste, barely there, but the three could see Damian melt. 

"Okay, now I can go. I'll see you at school tomorrow?" He asked. Damian nodded without saying anything, "Can't wait."

Jon run to catch back up with the gaggle of 11 and 12 year old boys. 

"Damian got kissed!" Dick cheered once Jon was out of earshot. Damian hid his cherry red face in his hands, "We need to celebrate."

"Why? It's not even a big deal." Damian squeaked and crossed his arms over his chest. 

"Of course it's a big deal. Can I tell Dad?" Dick asked, grinning widely. 

"I mean I guess if you want to." Damian bit his lips to keep the smile from spreading across his face. 

~*~

Bruce had awoken from his nap and was enjoying the feeling of laying on top of Clark and making out. They weren't progressing really, just relishing in kisses and little touches. They broke apart when Bruce's phone buzzed on the night stand loudly. Bruce rolled his eyes and reached over to answer.

"Hey, Dick." Bruce said, rolling over to his back. Clark turned to his side and pressed delicate little kisses to his neck. 

"Oh, you should out of breath. I can call later if-" 

"Don't worry about it." Bruce said. 

"You sure? Because I can call back later."

"Yeah, I'm sure." Bruce told him. Clark wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him in close. 

"Okay, well, Damian got kissed at the movies today and we were gonna-" 

"He what?" Bruce asked. His brain was much too sleepy still to have heard him right. 

"He got kissed. He bumped into Jon at the movies and they went on a little impromptu date-" 

"It wasn't a date!" Bruce heard Damian yell in the background. 

"Okay, it wasn't a date. You just held hands and sat alone together and he kissed you." Dick said sarcastically. 

"Just on the cheek." Damian protested.

"Yeah, it was just a cheek kiss, but it was so cute. And anyway, we're going out to celebrate and buy him something." Dick told him.

"Are you driving?" Bruce asked.

"Of course not. I'm not dumb." Dick said. 

"You're driving."

"Maybe just a little. But it's fine. There's no cops here." Dick said. Bruce sighed. 

"Go drive and let me know when you're on your way back." He said before he hung up.

He set the phone back on the nightstand and Clark rolled onto his lap. Bruce held his hips and smiled up at him. 

~*~

The kids were home in a couple hours. Bruce had changed from a robe to his new knit sweater and pajama pants. Clark put his jeans back on. 

Damian strolled in with a dopey half smile and cheeks tinged with pink. He was holding a new book in his hands.

"Heard you had an exciting day." Bruce said. Damian hid his face behind the book, "Feeling shy?"

"A little I guess." Damian muttered.

"Well, we won't mention it if you don't want to." Bruce ruffled his hair. 

"Jon kissed me on the cheek." Damian whispered. Bruce smirked. 

"Jon, my cousin?" Clark asked. Damian nodded.

"Is that bad?" He asked. 

"It means that Wayne's have a type for sure." Clark snickered. 

"No, Damian. That's not bad. If it was your cousin, then it would be bad." Bruce told him. Titus walked into the room and sat in front of Damian. 

"Hello, Titus. Do you want ice cream?" Damian asked. Titus barked quietly. 

"The dog doesn't need ice cream." Bruce told him. 

"But he wants it." Damian pointed to the dog. 

"He can have a little. But he's a support dog now, so you have to treat him like one." Bruce told him.

"I know. I just think he should be included in the party." Damian shrugged. 

"Fair enough." Bruce shrugged.

Alfred brought out the cake and ice cream. He brought an extra bowl for the dog. Titus waited patiently for everyone to get some cake to be served. He pushed his bowl over to Damian and sat down.

"Go ahead." He told him after everyone had started eating. Titus lapped up his scoop of ice cream and say to wait for everyone to finish.

Bruce gazed at Clark.

"What's up?" He asked, his cheeks tinged pink. 

"You have frosting on your nose." Bruce told him. Clark wiped at his nose, trying to clean up his face. Bruce chuckled and kissed his cheek. 

~*~

Clark thought it best to head back home after cake to make sure he got to work on time. Bruce kissed him goodbye and took his kids up to bed. 

"Hey, Dad?" Damian bit his lip when Bruce came to tuck him in. 

"What's up?" 

"What happens if Jon and me start dating?" Damian asked. 

"What do you mean?" Bruce asked. 

"Well, when can we be boyfriends? And what happens if you marry Clark? Is it weird to date Jon then? And what if we break up? Is that going to be weird? Should we just wait until we're older?" Damian rambled. He must be nervous. 

"I think most people would tell you to wait it out, be a kid for a while longer. I don't think you need a boyfriend yet, but if you want to hang out together, then I don't see any harm in that." Bruce told him. Damian nodded.

"Can he still kiss me sometimes?" He asked. 

"If he wants to, then yes. Appropriately." Bruce told him, "We can figure out what that is as we go."

"Okay. Thank you." Damian rolled over. The cat snuggled up at the foot of his bed. Bruce turned on his lava lamp and turned out the light.

~*~

It was four in the morning when the door creaked open. Bruce cracked his eyes open. He was expecting Damian's little silhouette in the doorway, not Dick's. 

"I had a nightmare." Dick muttered quietly, "Is it weird to come sleep with you tonight? I don't want to be alone." 

"Come on." Bruce moved to make room for Dick in the big bed. He held his arms out and Dick snuggled up close, his face buried away in Bruce's chest, "Do you want to talk about it?" 

"Not really. Just about Mom and Dad." Dick mumbled.

"Okay. I'll call Dinah in the morning." Bruce held his son tight to his chest. 

"Thanks." He told his Dad before he drifted off to sleep.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian has a sleepover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick heads up, this chapter is very Damian-centric. Virtually nothing else happens outside of Damian.

Damian was nervous. Someone would find out about Jon. Someone would laugh and push him and he would get angry and beat them up again. He didn't want to go to school. He didn't know if Jon would be at school today. Sometimes he had classes at the middle school, and Damian wasn't sure if today was one of those days. He sat down with Henry. 

"What's wrong?" He asked. 

"Nothing." Damian tried to sit up a little straighter. Henry couldn't know. 

"Are you sure? You look like you're gonna cry." Henry said quietly. 

"I'm fine." Damian snapped and slumped back down in his seat. Henry pursed his lips and turned back to his desk.

The teacher stood at the front of the class and wrote the schedule on the board. Damian liked her, she was nice. But even she couldn't know how happy Jon made him feel and how sick he felt today. 

He almost asked Dad to stay home today, but he desperately wanted to see Jon again. He wanted to hold his hand and hug him and go to the park and walk the dog together. Maybe they could sit under a tree together and Jon could kiss his lips instead of his cheeks. Damian held himself tighter, trying to keep himself from blushing. He was tough. Tough boys don't blush and sneak kisses from cute boys.

Henry hid a piece of paper from view and scribbled something down. He slid it over so Damian could see. 

_Did something happen? Yes/no_

Damian bit his lips and circled yes. Henry nodded and wrote more on the paper.

_Talk at recess behind the computer lab?_

Damian nodded and went back to trying to look threatening. He knew it wasn't working. But it's all he had right now. He refused to let a soul know about Jon.

~*~

The computer lab was in a portable on the field. Damian met Henry there after lunch. It was quiet, still within the playground, but far enough away that they could talk in peace and quiet. 

"What happened? Are you okay?" Henry asked, he gently took Damian's hand. He nodded. 

"A boy kissed me this weekend." Damian said. Henry's eyes went wide. 

"Thats exciting! Who is it?" He bounced with excitement, a grin plastered on his face. Damian stared at the asphalt below his feet, "Do you wanna keep it a secret." 

Damian nodded. He already got Jon in enough trouble.

"Was it a good kiss?" Henry's face softened. Damian hid his blush with his hands. He had to wear mittens in the February cold because gloves made his fingers itch, "It was. So why are you so upset?" 

"Because people will be mean about it and I'm just 11, and that's not old enough to kiss yet." Damian said, "I'm not even in middle school."

"I think that's okay. You don't need to get married, but kisses are nice and feel good." Henry said gently.

"What happens if people find out?" Damian squeaked.

"I think most of them won't care. Most people don't care about my dads. Sometimes they get a weird look or someone at the store says something mean. But not really." Henry shrugged. 

"Promise?" Damian's eyes were wide. 

"Pinkie promise. Do you wanna go swing?" He asked. Damian nodded. He followed closely behind, afraid to make eye contact. He blushed when he caught Jon's eye. He was with a group of boys, some had sticks and pencils, some held finger guns. They were running around, hiding behind trees and playground equipment. Jon ran up to Damian and Henry.

"Hi, Damian." Jon had a peaceful, easy smile, "I had a lot of fun at the movies last weekend."

"Me too." Damian blushed. Henry eyed the pair of them, slowly putting two and two together. 

"Do you guys wanna play star wars with us?" Jon asked with a tilt of his head.

"What's star wars?" Damian blinked. He lived a very sheltered life in Cairo. He didn't know much about American culture outside of old books he read. And his old books made no mention of a star war.

"You've never watched star wars?" Jon looked a little taken aback, "Do you wanna come over to my house and watch it with me?" 

"Oh, sure. That sounds fun." Damian smiled bashfully. He saw Henry smirk out of the corner of his eye.

"Okay, our moms have to call and talk to each other first." Jon explained.

"My dad can call instead." Damian said. Jon agreed, his face full of excitement. He tore a piece of notebook paper he had in half and took a glittery blue mechanical pencil from his pocket. He wrote carefully as to not tear the paper, and had Damian write Bruce's phone number down. Damian was careful to use Bruce's personal work phone number and not his real phone number. 

~*~

Their movie night had slowly turned into a sleepover. Bruce was a little skeptical at first, but Damian promised he would be good. And Conner would be there for the night. 

Dick and Jason dropped Damian off on their way to the gym. Dick wanted Jason to spot his silks and work on a new routine he could do with a bad back. Dick knocked on the apartment door. He crouched down while he waited for the door to open.

"You got your toothbrush, and pajamas, and Cow? Just in case? And a book you can read? And you got your away phone? Let me know if you need anything and I can try to pick it up on my way back home." Dick asked. The door opened. Damian pushed him away.

"Hello, Ms. Clarke. I'm Damian's older brother, Dick." Dick stook back up and shook her hand. She was a kind looking woman with a sharp face and dark hair pinned up in a bun with a pencil. She wore a yellow blouse, skinny jeans, and black no show socks. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I don't see much of a resemblance." She squinted. 

"Yeah. He's our dad's only biological son, and his mom is Egyptian. The rest of us are adopted." Dick nodded. Jon popped his head around his mom's legs.

"Damian! Hi. Mom said we can use the projector in my room." Jon grinned and pulled him inside. Damian stopped listening to the adult's conversation. He saw Conner playing a video game that looked loud and bloody in the living room. But Jon took him into his bedroom. It was painted baby blue. His bed had drawers underneath and was made white sheets, a big navy comforter and red throw pillows. He had a white desk and a little white bookshelf. He had a couple books, but mostly graphic novels. 

"Do you wanna come see my Pokémon cards?" Jon asked, still holding his hand.

"Okay." Damian blushed. He didn't know what Pokémon was either, but Jon seemed excited. He pulled a big binder off the shelf and opened it up. Hundreds of cute little characters lined the plastic pages.

"Look, I have a holographic Charizard. And an Aloan Ninetales." Jon proudly pointed to the cards. Damian smiled. He couldn't pronounce most of the names, but he would remember to ask Tim about Pokémon soon. His mom came in the room, leaning up on the door frame. 

"Do you need help getting a projector hooked up? We can connect it to the roku and you should be able to get all the star wars movies." She said. 

"Yeah. Thank you." Jon smiled, "Let's build a fort."

The pair worked hard to put it together. Jon's mom brought them a couple roll up foam mattresses to stick up against Jon's bed. Jon pulled the pillows off his bed to prop up against the drawers under his bed. They strung up a few lights, and set up a good spot for the projector to go. Damian helped pad out the edges with more pillows while Jon made an entrance sign for the outside using markers and construction paper. Jon's mom came inside to hook up the projector. 

"Do you boys want popcorn?" She asked. 

"Yes! And hot chocolate too." Jon cheered. Damian giggled. She winked at the boys and crawled away to get them popcorn and hot chocolate. Jon suggested they change into pajamas. 

"But it's only two." Damian checked the clock.

"Yeah, but it's blanket fort time. It's comfy clothes time." Jon held his hand. Soon the pair were changed into pajamas with a big bowl of popcorn between them and mugs of hot chocolate. Jon had draped a big, fleece, cowboy blanket over their laps. Damian watched the opening scroll of text intently. He wanted more than anything to move the popcorn and snuggle up to Jon, safe and warm. He wanted to lean back against his chest and be held. 

"Hey, Damian?" Jon whispered. Damian gazed into his deep blue eyes. A gorgeous cobalt, not his father's cold, icey blue, "Is it okay to move the popcorn a little?" 

Damian nodded. Jon held the bowl and closed the gap between the two. He snuggled up into Damian's side and watched the movie he'd already seen a hundred times. He head was resting gently on Damian's chest. 

"Is this okay?" He had such big beautiful eyes, with such long pretty eyelashes. Like a cow. Big and full of love and sweet innocence. 

"Yes." Damian whispered. 

"Are you sure? You got really tense. Do you wanna try it the other way?" Jon asked. Damian nodded. Jon backed up and held his free hand out so Damian could curl up next to his side, "What's in your bag?" 

Jon gestured to the stuffed cow, just barely peaking out from Damian's bag. Damian felt sick. He didn't want Jon to know he still slept with stuffed animals. 

"It's nothing." Damian shook his head. Jon crawled over and pulled the toy out. Damian felt tears start to form in his throat. 

"It's a cow." Jon blinked. 

"Yeah."

"Do you like stuffed animals?" He tilted his head. Damian nodded slowly, "Does your cow have a name?" 

"His name is Cow. He's for sleeping." Damian explained. 

"Do you have other animals for different stuff?" Jon scooted closer.

"It helps with anxiety." Damian whispered. He wanted to open up to Jon. He wanted to share something important, but as soon as the word left his mouth he regretted it. 

"What's anxiety?" 

"Like feeling really nervous all the time for no reason. And sometimes you feel so nervous that you can't breathe and you feel like you're dying and you cry a lot." Damian told him. Jon's cheeks turned pink. 

"And it's hard to sleep sometimes because you feel sick?" Jon asked. Damian nodded. Jon crawled back up to him and held out his cow for him to take, "Sometimes I stay up all night feeling sick because we have to go to library and the librarian scares me. Is it like that?" 

"Yeah, but all the time. Some stuff makes it worse, and some stuff makes it better." Damian explained. Jon held his hands. 

"What stuff makes it better?" Jon was painfully close. Damian wanted to fall into his chest and let Jon hold him and kiss him and fill the fort with bubbles of laughter.

"I have a special dog that helps. Being with animals makes me feel better. I like the stuffed animals. Soft things are nice. Snuggling sometimes helps." Damian whispered the last one. Just in case Jon didn't want to hear that one. 

"Who do you snuggle?" 

"My dog or my cat, my dad, my brothers." Damian could feel his heart pound in his fingertips. He didn't realize he was holding his breath. Jon blinked. He looked down at their now empty mugs and smiled at him. 

"I'll be right back. Watch the movie while I'm gone." Jon softly kissed his forehead and crawled out of the fort with the two mugs. Damian smiled and let out a big deep breath. He curled up onto a ball, his face flushed and hot, and he watched Luke Skywalker tell his father he wanted to pick up power converters.

Jon came back with an extra blanket. This one was a soft white throw blanket. It was thick and warm and fuzzy. Jon wrapped it around his shoulders, making sure he had cow tucked safely in his arms. Jon slipped the cowboy blanket around him like a cape and pulled Damian in. He leaned back, Damian tucked between his legs and head resting on his chest.

"Is this okay?" Jon whispered to him. Damian nodded and held his cow tighter. Jon didn't say anything for a long time. They sat and watched the movie in almost perfect silence. On occasion Damian asked a question, and sometimes Jon had an answer, sometimes he didn't, and sometimes he just told Damian to wait. He was curious as to why the deathstar would have such an obvious weak point in its design.

"That looks so cold." Damian said. Luke Skywalker was trudging around in a blizzard.

"Yeah but they have coats on and stuff." Jon said. 

"You just put a coat on and that's it? That's a frozen wasteland. What's a coat gonna do?" Damian questioned, "Egypt is never that cold. The coldest place I've ever been is New Jersey."

"You've been to Egypt?" Jon told him. His voice grew higher with excitement.

"That's where I was born. I lived there until I was seven." Damian told him.

"Do you speak Egyptian?" 

"No one speaks Egyptian anymore. But I speak Arabic." Damian told him.

"Thats so cool. You should take me there." Jon said.

"One day." Damian smiled and snuggled in deeper. Jon bounced with joy as Han Solo stuck Luke in a tauntaun, it was his favorite part. The fort fell quiet once more, Damian could hear Jon's heart beating just a little too fast. Maybe he was just as nervous about this as Damian was. 

Damian was captivated by Han Solo. He watched him slowly pin Leia up against the wall and pull her in for a kiss. He wished he could be the princess in that situation. He wished he could be angrily banging through machinery, furious at the world, and have an arrogant, self-righteous jerk tower over him and hold his hands and kiss him until all the rage was replaced with flustered love.

"Do you every think about what that feels like?" Jon asked. His heart sped up. 

"What?" Damian turned to look at him. 

"Do you ever think about what mouth kisses feel like?" He repeated. Damian blushed, "They must feel good right? Otherwise why do people in movies do it all the time?" 

Damian wasn't sure how to respond. He didn't know if he should say yes please kiss me right now, or just grab his face and kiss him right then, or shut the conversation down completely. He just stared into Jon's cobalt eyes, deep and rich. Jon wrapped his arms around Damian's shoulders. 

"Do you want to try it?" Jon blinked. Damian nodded before he could stop himself. He clutched his cow so hard his knuckles were white. Jon leaned in and kissed him. It was a fast kiss, only a second or two, but Damian's head spun.

"That was good." Damian whispered with a small nod. 

"Yeah." Jon smiled, "Maybe we can kiss later too."

"I'd like that." Damian said. He couldn't stop smiling. He heard the away phone ring and he crawled over to his bag. Jon paused the movie. 

"We're about to leave the gym and I wanted to see how things were going." Dick said.

"It's good. We're watching the second one with Yoda and stuff." Damian said.

"Oh, that's my favorite one. Do you want snacks or anything? I can drop stuff off for you. Or you can ask Jon's mom if I could bring you food." Dick told him.

"I'll talk to him and text you about it." Damian told him.

"Okay. Sounds good. Are you getting any kisses?" He teased.

"Uhm, just one." Damian hoped Jon couldn't see his blush under the fairy lights. 

"Thats so cute! I'm sorry to interrupt, I'll let you go back to your date while the night is young. Text me about snacks." Dick hung up.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The annual Wayne Gala.

Bruce was dreading the gala a little bit. It would be the first big event after going public about their relationship. He'd turned down all the interviews about it and refused to discuss with the press. He just had nothing more to add to the story and didn't feel the need to draw attention to it. 

Bruce had gotten Clark a tuxedo tailored for the event and the younger boys had things adjusted to fit better. Dick had requested something more interesting than just the suit, but Bruce turned him down. 

"We'll make a big enough scene with Clark there. We can break down the social constructs within black tie events another time. We want the focus to be on giving money to kids." Bruce explained.

"Can I be the headlining act next year?" Dick asked. 

"Sure. Unless something else comes up." He shrugged, "Come update me on life. You've had a lot going on."

"Yeah." Dick sighed and plopped down on Bruce's bed, "Wally and I are I guess taking a break? I'm not really sure. Meghan finally dumped Connor a couple weeks ago and we've been talking. I guess she found a bunch of messages he'd been sending this other girl. But, the dance studio I teach gymnastics at offered me a choreography position for the recital in December."

"Okay, Wally first, then we can get to the recital. You're not sure if you're on a break?" Bruce raised an eyebrow.

"Well, we were talking about what happened at his birthday and we were thinking about just breaking it off until I was in a better place mentally. But then he had this whole dramatic speech about how I was his best friend and he loved me but he knew I might not love him back right now and that was okay and he wanted to help me get to a place where I could love him too. And I couldn't just dump him after that, so he thought maybe we should just take a step back for a minute without breaking up." Dick rambled. He was gesturing wildly. He looked wide eyed and confused, like a deer in the headlights.

"That sounds like a break." Bruce told him. 

"Except he's still acting like a boyfriend. He's acting like a different boyfriend, but not like he's not a boyfriend. He still holds my hand and kisses me when he sees me at school and stuff. He's just a lot quieter and more serious and he expects me to answer honestly when he asks how I'm doing, and I've got no fucking clue how to do that." Dick paused to glance at his dad once he realized he swore.

"Go on. There are no little ears right now." Bruce encouraged. Dick needed to vent, and Bruce was always ready to be a soundboard. 

"I think we're just not having sex. Which of course we weren't doing before because I don't know what sex is. But I think no sex is what he means by taking a step back and letting things breathe or whatever. Which I guess is a good strategy, because I can't cheat on him or I'll die on the spot, and I have to find other ways to be happy and make him like me and stuff." Dick ranted. Bruce wasn't sure how he felt about Dick being so open about his sex life with him. He supposed it was a good thing. He made an environment where Dick felt comfortable talking to him about sensitive topics, even if he promptly denied having anything to do with it at all. Dick looked up at his dad, urging him to say something. 

"I think you found a good one. Maybe he's not the one, maybe you don't have a soulmate or an other half or whatever other bullshit people say. But Wally seems like a good kid for you. At the very least he's trying to understand and help you." Bruce said. 

"Do you think Clark is your soulmate?" Dick leaned forward. Bruce knew this game. Dick needed to level the playing field after feeling vulnerable. 

"I don't think soulmates exist. I do love Clark, and I think we balance each other out well. I can see a future with him. But no, I don't think we're destined to be together." Bruce shrugged. He'd abandoned the idea of true love, destiny, and happily ever after a long time ago.

"Oh what a proclamation of love and desire." Dick chuckled and rolled his eyes. 

~*~

Clark arrived at the manor so Bruce could help him get ready. He was determined to make Clark blend it. He refused to have his boyfriend look like a reporter at an event any longer. 

He was trying to help Tim with his hair, which really ended up with him chasing him around the manor with a comb. 

"Tim, you can't stay home. You can't run from this." Bruce announced. It maybe wasn't the best time for Clark to walk through the door. He managed to snag the back of Tim's shirt, making him fall flat on his face. Tim sat up with his face covered in blood. 

"Did you push me?" Tim asked.

"Why would I push you?" Bruce asked him. 

"I don't know I blanked for while and then I was on the floor." Tim blinked. 

"I didn't push you. I tried to catch you and you tripped. Go see Alfred and get cleaned up, your nose is bleeding." Bruce helped him up and sent him on his way.

"Stressful day?" Clark asked. Bruce closed his eyes and sighed.

"My god, you have no idea." He shook his head, "Come on, let's help you get dressed."

~*~

It didn't take long for the pair to be swarmed by reporters. Bruce just brushed them off, but Clark tried to interact. He was so shy about it. He blushed and stuttered when he answered questions. 

"Mr. Kent, what has in been like being in a relationship with such a high profile man?" 

"Oh, uh, it's weird a lot. It's easier than I expected, but I think it's because Bruce is a very private person." Clark's hands shook and his eyes darted around to find each member of the Wayne family. Bruce had a hand gently placed on the small of his back.

"Do you find it difficult to compete with four kids and his job?" 

"I don't think so? I like his kids a lot. And they sort of adopted me as family I think." Clark scratched the back of his head and rocked back and forth on his feet. 

"Come on, dear. Time for a big speech." Bruce whispered, just loud enough for the reporters to hear. Technically the big speech wasn't for a few more minutes, but Clark looked so horribly uncomfortable. He waited until they were out of earshot to talk to Clark again, "Don't feel like you need to talk to them. You don't owe them your life story."

"It's just a lot all at once." Clark sighed. 

"If you need to rest, find Damian or Tim. Damian likes to observe but not participate, and Tim gets sensory overload really easily and avoids being in the middle of it all." Bruce said. Clark nodded, "Now, if you'd like to come up on stage with me, all you have to do is stand and look pretty while I talk for a while."

"Okay. I can do that." Clark exhaled and followed him up on stage. Bruce held him hand to guide him to where he should stand. Clark stood still and watched Bruce talk. 

"Good evening, everyone. Thank you all for coming to the 2020 Wayne Gala. It's a huge honor to bring it to you all and raise money for the Wayne Foundation. The Thomas Foundation will be fundraising for a new children's hospital here in Gotham, and distribution of vaccines and ART drugs in South Africa, Botswana, Swaziland, and Lesotho. And the Martha Foundation will be giving money to art programs in Gotham school district and women's shelters in Gotham city." Bruce announced. The audience applauded, "I would also like to introduce my partner, Clark Kent."

He held out his hand for Clark to step forward. He smiled, his cheeks were pink.

"This is his first time in the spotlight so do be kind." Bruce smirked. The audience chuckled, "As always, donation boxes will be open all night and online for the next week. My son, Dick, would also like to make an announcement and then we can get back to the party."

Bruce stepped away from Dick to take the microphone. He looped an arm around Clark's waist and gently guided him off stage. He pecked his cheek quickly and watched his son speak.

"In honor of the anniversary of not only my family but also my father's family sadly passing away, the Wayne Foundation will be hosting a festival of the arts this June. We have QR codes at the donation boxes that will send you to our website where you can learn more. Thank you all so much for your continued support. I will stop talking and let you all go donate." Dick stepped offstage and the audience clapped once more. Bruce gathered up his kids and made sure they were all feeling good still.

"Everyone remembers the code for I need help?" Bruce asked them. The four boys nodded. Clark looked confused. 

"Dick is Ricky, Dad is Brucie or Daddy, and Alfred is Sir Alfred." Tim explained, "Then they take you away from the people and figure it out from there."

"They complain a lot, and with mentally ill kids it's hard to tell what's complaining and what's a real problem that needs addressed." Bruce said, "Now go out, have fun. Make sure you can always see one of us."

The boys all nodded and wandered off to do their own stuff.

"The gala is the biggest event we throw and it's the hardest on the boys. So we put in safety measures. Tim relies pretty heavily on it." Bruce said. 

"Wouldn't he thrive here? There's endless amounts of stuff happening for him to get distracted by. That sounds like ADHD heaven." Clark asked.

"He doesn't just have a short attention span. He has a hard time filtering things out and when there's a lot going on around him it gets overwhelming." Bruce said. It took a long time to get a good grasp on how to handle Tim, but he was a lot better.

The music started up and Bruce asked Clark for a dance. He had never waltzed before, so Bruce decided to teach him. He put his hand gently on Clark's waist and explained a simple box step. Clark watched their feet as he tried to mimic the moves. Left, front together, right, back, together, left, front, together, right, back, together.

"Come look up at me." Bruce said. They stepped slowly so Clark could follow easily. Clark blushed and made eye contact with Bruce. They danced together as Clark bit his lips and stared on concentration.

"Excuse me." A sweet looking woman smiled at them, "May I cut in?"

Bruce allowed her to dance with Clark and looked for Tim. He was sipping at a soda from the bar and watching people dance while he played sudoku on his phone. He didn't say a word to Bruce, just kept tapping away at the numbers on the screen. 

"Tim, did you finish that sudoku in two and a half minutes?" Bruce was shocked.

"Yeah. My record is a minute 51." Tim shrugged and moved to the next puzzle.

"Jesus." Bruce muttered. 

"Yeah, I don't know. I saw some guy in YouTube doing them so I started and now I don't stop I guess." He tapped rapidly between the numbers and plugged them into the grid. Bruce just watched him unravel the puzzles at light speed.

He caught a glimpse of Clark with the woman. They weren't dancing anymore, she had a recorder out. Bruce left his son to his puzzles and wormed his way through the crowd to rescue Clark. 

"Did you have a nice dance, darling?" Bruce asked. He wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him close.

"Oh, Bruce, this is Lois. We know each other actually." Clark smiled up at him. Bruce immediately separated, eager for an excuse to drop the PDA. 

"Pleased to meet you." Bruce nodded. Lois was pretty, she had her hair pinned up neatly. Her mermaid cut dress was very vintage glamour.

"We actually used to date. Or is Bruce the jealous type?" She teased and shut off the recorder. Clark giggled. 

"Don't worry. I couldn't care less." Bruce nodded, "How long did you date?"

"Four years." She smiled, "I moved about a year and a half ago and we decided to end it then."

"Thats a long time. Wow." Bruce didn't quite know what to think. If it meant anything, it meant Clark was in for the long haul. Which he supposed was good. 

"I had to come visit for the gala, especially after I heard you were dating Bruce Wayne. You used to be so head over heels for him." Lois laughed. Clark blushed. 

"Used to be?" Bruce looked over at him. 

"You were a big time celebrity crush of mine. I'd purposefully volunteer to report on your events so I could try and interview you." Clark admitted, "It was really weird. We don't need to talk about it."

"I've heard you say some filthy things about Bruce's backside. But whatever you did, it worked." Lois raised an eyebrow. Clark turned bright red. 

"Now I'm curious." Bruce smirked. 

"I'll tell you later." Clark shook his head. Bruce winked at him. 

"So what were you interviewing him for?" Bruce asked. 

"Well, no one's getting anything out of you. So everyone is scrambling to get Clark's side of the story. I'm trying to get the jump on everyone else." She smiled, "And I was hoping to catch up with Clark. It's been a while."

"It has. It's been good talking. We should call more." Clark smiled.

"Is it weird to ask for a hug?" Lois tilted her head. 

"Come here. Bruce is weird about hugs." Clark enveloped his in his big bear arms. Bruce had never really questioned how he got so strong, but he was a massive man.

"I'm not weird about hugs." Bruce shook his head. 

"Whatever you say." Clark laughed and said goodbye to Lois. Bruce felt a tug on his jacket. He turned to see Damian standing behind him.

"I think Dick needs you, Daddy." He said. Bruce scanned the room to find Dick. He found him standing with a pretty redheaded boy who was very obviously eyeing him. Bruce sighed and walked over to his oldest son. Dick giggled and put a hand on his arm but Bruce didn't pick up on any of their conversation.

"Hey, who's your friend?" Bruce smiled at his son. 

"Roy Harper." The ginger boy shook his hand and flashed a smile. 

"Pleasure." Bruce nodded, "Dick, did you invite Wally to come tonight? I can't seem to remember."

"Who's Wally?" Roy clocked his head. 

"Friend of mine." Dick shrugged. 

"Just friends? This morning you told me you were still together." Bruce furrowed his brows. 

"You have a boyfriend?" Roy asked.

"Maybe." Dick grimaced. 

"Oh, I had no idea. I'll just, uh, go, I guess." Roy pointed back to the crowd and hurried away. Bruce grasped his shoulder tightly. 

"If you're upset, go home." Bruce said. Dick bit his lips.

"I was just-" 

"Dick." Bruce interrupted, "Do you need to go home?"

"I think so." Dick hung his head. 

"Then leave. I can get the boys home. Alfred is at the house. You can invite Wally over if you need company." Bruce told him. Dick nodded and walked away, "Do you need anything else, Damian?" 

"No. Thank you, Dad." Damian shook his head. 

Clark took his hand and kissed his cheek. Bruce sighed and rubbed his temples. Kids were exhausting. But in a few hours he could go home with Clark, fuck out his frustration, maybe take a bath, and pass out for ten hours. The best thing to come out of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watch me struggle not to just make them all go to the met gala bc I'm still in mourning over it getting canceled.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday Dick.

Dick didn't want to be depressed for his 19th birthday. He wanted to throw a big party and have fun and make dumb choices. But instead, he was slow, tired, upset by life. Everything seemed too hard. He didn't want to get up, he didn't want to see people, he just wanted to stay in bed. 

"Morning." Wally crept in his bedroom, "Your dad invited me over for your birthday." 

"Oh. Cool." Dick faked a smile. Wally frowned. 

"You doing okay?" He sat on the edge of his bed and bounced his knee. 

"Yeah, I'm good." Dick promised. 

"You don't seem good right now. Are you sure?" Wally leaned a little forward, "Talk to me. I want to hear what's going on."

"No you don't." Dick shook his head. No one wanted to hear that. Dick only knew because he had to. He didn't want to infect everyone else with his own worry. 

"You're not a mind reader. You don't know what I want." Wally kissed his fingertips softly, "Let me in."

"Okay, fine. I'm sad as hell. I don't know why. I don't know how to fix it. I'm just sad and stuck chasing my own fucking tail all the time." Dick snapped. He hated admitting how similar he was to Damian in that regard. Sadness lead to outbursts and bad decisions so you can pretend to be in control. 

"Walk me through this. Let me try to understand." Wally massaged his knuckles. 

"Why?" Dick wanted to pull his hand away and push him out of the room. He wanted to be left to his own suffering.

"Because I have no idea what it's like. When I'm sad it's because something happened, I don't just become sad." Wally scowled, trying to find the right words to use, "I work a hell of a lot differently than you, and right now, you have the high ground. I'm Annakin drowning in lava or whatever trying to understand what you're going through. Help me out of the lava so I can actually do something about the problem. Even if that something is just sitting downstairs and watching a romcom in silence."

"If you're my mind Annakin, you also murdered a ton of my mind children. So you kinda deserve it." Dick teased.

"Yeah but I was so sexy the whole time. So it balances out." Wally shrugged.

"Sexier than Obi-Wan?" Dick snickered. 

"Oh fuck!" Wally started slowly sliding off the bed, "Babe please! I'm dying in a pit of lava! You have to stop deflecting and talk about your feelings or I'll die."

Wally clutched his chest, falling off the bed and oozing to the floor. Dick rolled his eyes and pulled Wally back up.

"You won. I'll talk. But only because your so goddam cute." Dick stared at his lap, "It doesn't make a lot of sense, so suspension of disbelief is important."

"Great. I love sci fi so this'll be easy." Wally grinned. Dick's heart fluttered in his chest.

"So, I think it was like two weeks ago. I was at the stupid gala thing with dad a couple weeks ago and I had to give my speech. And I panicked and had a minor identity crisis so I finished it way earlier than I had planned. And then I felt like a huge disappointment because I couldn't even give a stupid speech. I'm an attention whore, I love being on stage in front of a crowd. And that was such an easy speech. And I knew everyone had to hate me because I'm a massive failure. And then there was this guy and he started flirting with me and-"

"You were flirting with another guy?" Wally blinked and straightened up a little bit.

"No. Maybe. But not on purpose. And he started it. I didn't intend for it to go actually go anywhere. I just needed some attention and he was there in the moment. Anyway, Dad stepped in and scared the guy off and sent me home. So I felt worse because I couldn't stay to promote my own fucking charity event, and I almost cheated on my boyfriend. And I felt so guilty and stupid and miserable and frankly I wanted to die a little bit. And since then it's just been a big cycle of kicking myself because it's such a minor thing and I should get over it, and then feeling upset because I still want to die, and then getting mad at myself because I'm not over it yet." Dick was almost yelling by the end.

He didn't mean to rant for so long. But once he started, he couldn't stop. Wally just sat in silence for a long time. He picked at his nails. Dick watched. 

"What was different about this speech?" Wally asked finally. 

"I don't know. I was talking Haley's. It was fancy. I'm not a very fancy person. I felt out of place and uncomfortable." Dick explained. 

"You live in a mansion in the countryside. You have a butler and a private plane. You're a very fancy person." Wally looked confused. 

"Yeah but before that I was living paycheck to paycheck in a trailer with my immigrant parents." Dick explained, "Fancy isn't something I'm good at."

"Sometimes I forget you're not actually Bruce's kid." Wally scratched the back of his head, "Sorry."

"I do too on occasion." Dick said. 

"Is that why you always want to go to my house? So you feel less fancy?" Wally asked. Dick shrugged.

"Maybe." He didn't want to think about it. 

"I promised your dad I'd keep you here for birthday stuff, but another day do you want to have a horrible cheap high school date where I'm not furiously trying to impress you?" Wally asked. 

"You've been trying to impress me?" Dick smiled. 

"Well yeah, after I found out you were a multi-billionaire." Wally shrugged, "But now I find out I could've just been wandering around Target with you and making out in a McDonald's parking lot."

"That sounds amazing." Dick groaned. He'd sneak out with Jason and they'd just go to a gas station and load up on junk food and eat it in the dark. Sometimes Jason would smoke, a couple times he tagged an abandoned building, but usually they just went out and were people for a few hours.

"I'll take you out tomorrow. We'll spend Saturday night being hip teens hanging out in sketchy places. But for now, you have to get ready for school." Wally kissed him. 

~*~

Saturday was a blessing. Dick was actually excited. He was excited to go be a person with his boyfriend. He wanted to go and just forget about the prestige and the money the image he always worried about. Wally finally came and picked him up around three.

"Afternoon, baby." Wally swung an arm around his shoulders and walked him out to the car. Some old piece of garbage with the paint peeling off, "I did clean the car out, I know you like things tidy."

"Thank you." Dick smiled and kissed him, "So where are we going?" 

"I was thinking, we could start at the mall. We could go pick up some dinner later and make out in the backseat." Wally told him. Dick felt a warmth spread through his chest. Something happy and dreamy and a little dizzying. Wally was going out if his way to make sure Dick felt comfortable, even if he didn't really understand the how and why of it all. 

"You really know how to treat a lady." Dick teased. Wally snorted, "Do you wanna go skip rocks?" 

"What?" Wally quirked his head.

"Do you want to go skip rocks?" Dick repeated himself, "There's a cute little pond we can go to."

"Where is it?" Wally smiled at him.

"Trust me?" Dick raised an eyebrow.

"You look like a mischievous little elf. How could I possibly turn you down?" Wally kissed his fingers and started driving. They listened to soft music while Dick gave the occasional order to turn left or right. They didn't talk, just drove. The left the city and entered the outskirts. Close enough to see the skyline, but far enough they were driving down dirt roads and cutting through fields.

"Ready for a walk?" Dick asked after Wally pulled up next to a cow pen. Wally shrugged.

"Guess so. Lead the way." Wally gestured to the cows. Dick climbed out of the car and and hopped the wooden fence, "Don't piss the cows off and keep your eyes low."

Dick held Wally's hand and guided him through the field. They wandered across a big cattle grid down to a small lake. It was a little overgrown, but you could still dig for rocks to skip. A tiny creek flowed through the pond, shallow enough to just cover Dick's feet should he stand there. The log was still where he remembered, he used to walk down on his hands. But with Wally following close behind he just kept his balance and walked. 

"There's no way that's safe." Wally shook his head and stared at the bridge. 

"Oh, come on. It's not that bad at all." Dick shrugged, "Just walk down it."

"I have such horrible balance though." Wally muttered. Dick rolled his eyes and scooped him up. Wally might have been taller, but he was thinner and lighter. And Dick was used to holding himself up with one arm, or a foot, or sometimes his neck but only on occasion for dramatic effect. He carried his boyfriend down the log with ease, setting him down at the base. Wally pouted.

"What?" Dick wrapped his arms around his waist.

"You're a bottom, I'm supposed to carry you." Wally whined. 

"I'm verse, excuse you." Dick scoffed. 

"Not with an ass like yours, baby." Wally smirked. Dick giggled and kissed him. 

"You know, nobody could see us here. You could do something with my ass if you really wanted." Dick pulled him closer. 

"Or we could have meaningful conversations and let ourselves be open and honest with each other." Wally smiled. Dick groaned, "We can have sex again when it's not sex with an agenda."

"What does that even mean?" Dick pretended to be oblivious. 

"It means that we can have sex, when you want it to be making each other feel good and having fun. Not about compulsively demanding affection." Wally kissed him. Dick sighed. He never wanted to stop kissed him. 

"Might be a long time before that happens." Dick muttered. 

"Thats okay. I can wait." Wally smiled. 

"You're the most impatient person I know." Dick said. 

"Yeah, but I'll wait because I love you." Wally held his hands. Dick felt a lump form in his throat. He didn't know what to do. Wally was pressing kisses to his knuckles, "It's okay. You don't have to love me back."

"Because you love me instead and it makes you want to keep me safe and happy even if it's not with you?" Dick asked. Wally grinned. 

"Exactly." He found a boulder to sit on. Dick sat in the grass below him, "So how do you know about this place?"

"My dad would take me here all the time. Mom would be doing her thing, and we'd come out here. He helped move that log and I'd cartwheel down, or walk on my hands, or whatever trick I felt like that day." Dick rested his head on Wally's thigh. He didn't say anything, just sat and carded his fingers through Dick's hair, "I told him I had a crush of the tiger boy and he looked absolutely shocked. Not upset. He just couldn't think why on earth his son was gay. I wasn't an acrobat. My best friend wasn't Miss Demeanor the drag queen because she let me steal her costumes. I didn't always beg mom to let me wear her makeup. I wasn't always trying to show off for every boy and girl in the audience. It just didn't make any sense."

"Your best friend was a drag queen?" Wally asked. 

"Oh yeah. We had a horrible language barrier, could barely talk to each other. But I'd plead and pout and insist on poof dress please. And she'd roll her eyes and pretend to say no and I'd keep asking until she put me in her big skirts and dresses. We were attached at the hip." Dick said, "I wonder if she made it out of the accident."

"Weren't you the sole survivor or something?" Wally asked gently, combing through his hair slowly. 

"That's what the news said. But there's still seven unaccounted for." Dick whispered. He tried not to think about those seven. 

"I'm sorry. Is being here too much?" Wally asked and kissed the top of his head softly.

"No. I think I need it." Dick curled up into a ball and watched the water. He hadn't ever really allowed himself to just bathe in memory. He always shoved it over, buried it down, tried not to look it in the eye. He never just opened it up and existed in the pain. 

Oddly, he didn't feel sad, or angry, or depressed. He just felt a sort of reverent melancholy. A gentle settling of painful memories into a stinging at his skin. He didn't cry. He didn't yell. He just was. He was at peace here, allowing himself to be in pain. He'd never gone to church really, but he'd gone to visit old chapels. He always felt a wave of warm silence wash over him. Hang your head, respect those who died and those who were born, remember who they were, because it is full of life and love and beauty. This is as close to God as he had ever really gotten. 

Wally didn't utter a word, just watched his boyfriend stare at the plants around the lake. He played with his hair, eventually sliding down behind him. He held his waist and rested his cheek on Dick's back, just to be there for him.

And something dawned on him. It was an epiphany that had come from outside himself, and it made his stomach flutter until he felt sick. It was something he'd denied only minutes ago, but now he felt so strongly about.

"Hey, Wally?" Dick asked hesitantly. He'd intended for this to be a fun trip where he could talk about his dad's horrible English lessons, and skipping rocks, and hiding with the tiger boy to sneak innocent kisses. 

"Yeah?" Wally answered. Sweet Wally, gentle Wally. Who had sat and asked only to understand. Who had made him laugh when he felt like dying. Who had insisted on staying, even when Dick couldn't return his feelings. Who had forgiven his mistakes. Who had defended him. Who had stood by him. 

"I think I love you." Dick whispered.

"I love you too." Wally squeazed him a little tighter.

"I think I needed to realize that here. I think I'm ready to go now." Dick stood up and helped Wally to his feet. Wally didn't make a move, just stood and waited for Dick. He helped him walk back up the log and through the cow pen and into the car. He didn't know what he was supposed to do after that.

"You okay?" Wally whispered in the car.

"Just processing." Dick said. He turned the radio up from an eight to a ten. Barely different, but eight was the wrong number. He needed to fix it. 

"What do you need?" Wally asked. He tugged at the hem of his shirt. 

"Just, go drive around or something." Dick shrugged. 

~*~

Dick eventually did recover a little. They went out to eat. They sat in the car at the park and just held each other. He wasn't sure what he needed in the moment, but it was nice.

Wally walked him up to the front door late into the night. He smiled and waited for Dick to say something.. 

"I don't know how to be in love." Dick told Wally. 

"I don't either." Wally shook his head, "But I don't think it's much different."

"No. It feels different." Dick nodded. He couldn't explain it. It was just different, "I'm sorry."

"Why?" Wally asked. 

"I don't think I'm doing this right. I can go get some sleep and try again tomorrow." Dick nodded. Wally smiled. 

"We can have a movie night?" Wally asked.

"Okay. I'll text you." Dick nodded. 

"Okay. I love you." Wally smiled. 

"I love you too." Dick went inside and wandered up to bed ignoring the questions from Bruce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is anyone gonna be mad if I have two back to back Dick-centric chapters? I can always put it in a separate drabble if people would rather just get back to Clark and Bruce.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Movie night

Bruce was working in his office when Dick came to knock on the door. His arms were crossed over his chest, his lips were bitten and bleeding, his eyes darted around. Bruce saved his work and turned off the monitor.

"Do you want some tea?" Bruce asked. Dick nodded and came inside. Bruce sent a text to Alfred and gestured for Dick to sit on the big leather couch. 

"Are you busy?" Dick asked, sitting cross legged.

"Not too busy to talk." Bruce answered. He waited for Dick to talk.

"How do you be in love?" He asked. 

"What?" 

"Like, how does it work? What do you do? I've never been in love before." Dick scowled.

"Isn't this something you usually talk about with Jason?" Bruce sat next to his son.

"He wouldn't get it." Dick shook his head. 

"He might be cold sometimes, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know what love is." Bruce told him. 

"Just trust me. He wouldn't get it." Dick repeated. Alfred stepped in to hand the pair mugs of tea. He sent Dick a silent message, something Bruce knew from experience. Just a quick little hang in there. 

"Well I'm not exactly known for my love and compassion either." Bruce pointed out, "But I'll do the best I can."

"How do you love Clark? How do you know what to do?" Dick asked. 

"I don't know. I just do what feels right. And sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't." Bruce said, "It's a process. And it's different for different people."

"So how do I know what's going to work?" Dick had tears forming in his eyes. 

"You don't. Do what makes you feel good, ask what they want from you, notice what makes you feel loved, notice what they're doing for you. Find out what works." Bruce told him.

"But what if I do it wrong?" Dick turned to face his father.

"Dick, as your father, I can confidently say that you could never mess up love bad enough to have any real consequences. At worst, you'll make them uncomfortable for a minute and then you'll both move on." Bruce shrugged. Dick sipped his tea quietly.

"Wally is coming over later today." Dick nodded, "He likes doing stuff together, and he gives me a lot of compliments."

"Do you give him compliments back?" Bruce asked.

"I should give him more." Dick nodded, "But I like holding hands and giving hugs and stuff." 

"So hold his hand and give him hugs. It let's him know you want hugs back." Bruce said. Dick nodded and left the room.

~*~

Dick felt sick. He didn't want to mess this up. There was so much on the line. He was terrified to reach out and touch the way he wanted. But Dad told him to give him compliments, like how Wally did to him. 

"You look nice today." Dick nodded. Wally smiled. 

"Back at you, gorgeous." He winked, "Did you pick a movie out for us?" 

"Yeah. A couple." Dick said. 

"You know I love it when you lead the way." Wally gestured. Dick blushed and showed him the way to the theater. They turned on a movie and Wally collapsed on the couch with his arms open wide, "Come here, baby."

Dick sighed in relief and crawled up next to him. He was half on top of Wally, desperate to be held. 

"There he is." Wally teased and kissed the top of his head, "Feeling better after yesterday?"

"A little." Dick snuggled in deeper. 

"That's good. I love you." Wally ran his fingers through his hair.

"I love you too." Dick muttered. The words felt odd and heavy in his mouth, like they didn't really belong. He didn't really pay attention to the movie, just basked in the warmth of Wally's chest. 

"You're such a snuggle bug. It's so cute." Wally said. Dick heard his voice rumble in his chest. He pressed a soft kiss on Wally's jawbone, "Do you want to come over for Easter dinner?" 

"You want to bring your Jewish boyfriend to Easter dinner?" Dick sat up. He was pretty convinced he'd burst into flames the second he walked through the door. 

"I mean, if you want?" Wally was clearly not seeing the problem with this. 

"Babe, isn't Easter because the Jewish people murdered your guy? Like that's the whole thing right? Like we just fucking killed him? And it was super brutal?" Dick asked.

"Yeah, but he got better. And really it was Judas's fault anyway. It's been 2000 years or whatever. It'll be fine." Wally shrugged. 

"Uhm, when is Easter? I'm pretty sure it's in April." Dick said. 

"Couple weeks. The twelfth, I think." Wally said.

"That's in the middle of Passover." Dick pouted, "I won't be able to eat anything."

"What are you cutting?" Wally asked. 

"Like bread and shit. I can't eat anything with yeast or vinegar. And the only grain I can eat is matzo." Dick explained. 

"That sounds bad." Wally said. 

"It sucks and it's awful." Dick nodded, "But I guess if you really want me to come and just watch you guys eat, then I'll come."

"I'd love you to be there, Mom could try to make you something special if you'd like. Jesus had Passover before you personally murdered him in cold blood, so Mom does legally have to acknowledge it." Wally said.

"Don't make her do that, Wally." Dick groaned. 

"Then come and we'll give you like asparagus or something, I don't know." Wally shrugged and collapsed on top of Dick, "Please? You'll make it so much less miserable."

"Only if you promise your family won't shoot me on sight for killing your man a little bit." Dick held out his pinkie. Wally had pushed him over onto his back, and propped himself up on his elbow. Wally hooked their pinkie's together and kissed him deeply. Dick held his face, pulling him closer. Wally giggled and collapsed onto his chest. 

"You smell nice." Wally muttered into his neck. Dick smiled. 

"What do I smell like?" Dick asked. 

"I don't know. Just good." Wally kissed him and sat back up, "You're so cute."

Dick's face heated up. Looking up at him gave him a rush of love that nearly suffocated him. He covered his blush with his hands. Wally pushed them away and pinned his wrists to the couch.

Dick panicked and pushed Wally up when he heard the door open. He turned around to see Jason leaning up on the doorway with his arms crossed. 

"Whore." He said. 

"Fuck off. What do you want?" Dick asked. 

"My friends are picking me up to play dungeons and dragons with them and I need you to cover for me?" Jason said quietly.

"Why don't you want Dad knowing?" 

"Because it's embarrassing. I'm supposed to be a trouble kid that sneaks out and smokes and drinks and does drugs." Jason shrugged.

"We can unpack that later. I'll cover. Remember to go out through the mud room." Dick said. Jason flashed a thumbs up. 

~*~

Bruce was in the phone with Clark. It made the endless spreadsheets a little more bearable. 

"How's work going?" Bruce asked. 

"Your article was a huge hit. The readers love all the stuff you gave me. I didn't know you put so much research into it." Clark said. 

"I was obsessive and accusitory. I would make a terrible lawyer." Bruce shook his head. That old research was messy and emotional. There were no facts, just wild claims backed by nothing. 

"You were also nine and your parents had just died." Clark reminded him, "Anyway, Gotham is full of murder and crime and cold cases. Did you know that?"

"Of course I do. I could write a book of unsolved serial murders in Gotham and maybe get through the basics." Bruse rolled his eyes.

"Oh please do actually. I need to plan my next article." Clark said. 

"Well, there's the Joker killings. All the victims were found with a Joker card and a Dhalia smile. There's Mr. E. Nigma who left clues for detectives and was never caught. The Mad Hatter murders were really dark, it will get under your skin and you won't be able to sleep. Victor Fries is solved, but a little weird. The Clayface murders. Plus all the mafia stuff and the Owl Cult." Bruce listed off. He had a bit of a fascination with murder and mystery, it might be borderline obsession, but he enjoyed it. 

"What're the Mad Hatter murders?" Clark asked. 

"It involves kids and stuff. It's gross." Bruce said. Clark made a noise of disgust, "We're a city of crazies over here."

"You're not crazy." Clark told him. 

"I'm a little crazy, but on the end of the spectrum. So it balances out." Bruce shrugged even though Clark couldn't see it. 

"How are the boys doing?" Clark asked. 

"Dick is doing better, I think. He seems to be on the upswing. He has his boyfriend over right now. I'm not sure where Jason is actually. Tim has locked himself in his room so he can do homework. Damian just got his next karate belt and he is completely in love with your cousin. I don't think I've ever seen him so happy." Bruce explained. Clark laughed. 

"Jon called me just the other day and said he wanted to invite him back over to play video games." Clark said, "We may have some competition soon."

"I don't know, Damian's pretty oblivious right now. If I ask about it then he just brushes it off and says nothing is different." Bruce could tell he was on Cloud nine, but he wasn't sure Damian knew that. He wasn't sure if Damian had ever had a real, butterflies in your stomach, crush on a boy before.

"Jon's in the same boat. Maybe they'll just be stupidly in love and slowly drift apart until fate brings them back together when they can get married and ride into the sunset." Clark said dreamily.

"Or it'll fizzle out because they're eleven." Bruce pointed out. He'd given up on desk work to just talk to Clark. He missed the big guy, as much as he hated admitting it.

"Your'e no fun at all. Do you indulge in any wishful thinking at all?" Clark asked.

"Of course. I just know when to give up on it." Bruce explained. He didn't care about true love, or happily ever after, or prince charming. But he did care about Dick forming healthy relationships, Damian letting go of his anger, Tim learning proper robotics, Jason allowing himself to be gentle. He cared about how he might propose to Clark one day, if they'd adopt more kids, how soon was too soon.

"You're so boring sometimes." Clark pouted, "I miss you."

"I miss you too." Bruce's heart ached, "Come live with me so I can stop missing you forever."

"I have to work still." Clark said. 

"Work from home. Or pick a car you want so you can drive." Bruce leaned back in his office chair. 

"I'll think about it." Clark sighed. 

Then it dawned on Bruce. He couldn't believe he hadn't realized before. Clark didn't want things to progress. He didn't want a future with Bruce. He didn't want to get married and maybe adopt another kid. He didn't want to wake up every morning in bed together. Bruce never thought he'd be the sentimental one, but he'd been surprised before. He supposed he'd just ride it out until Clark decided he was done, then he'd go find another man, or he'd stay single. Who knows. Life is funny sometimes.

"I love you. That's not the reason I keep saying no." Clark said. 

"I love you too." Bruce said honestly. 

"You know that for me, I can't just buy a new house if things don't go as smoothly as I want them to. Living with you would be heavenly, but I'm scared about what could happen down the road." Clark explained. 

Bruce understood. Clark didn't plan on sticking around, so why bother moving in if he'd just get a new apartment in a little while. It didn't make any sense from Clark's point of view.

"You're not talking." Clark said.

"Oh, yeah. No I get that. I just know that I want to stay for a long time, but I could also just be getting old and daydreaming." Bruce shrugged. He wasn't heartbroken about it. They just had different goals. It happened sometimes.

"Bruce, dear, I want to be with you forever. I don't do casual relationships. I'm in it for the long haul. I'm just worried something might change that and I'll be left with nowhere to go." Clark sighed. Bruce blinked. Was he actually wrong about someone? 

"Why are you worried? You've seen all there is to see of me." Bruce said.

"I just don't want to make a mistake. I'll think about it." Clark repeated. Bruce let it go. He supposed time would tell what happened next. 

~*~

Dick was feeling very vulnerable. The movie was turned down and Wally had decided to make Dick open up. 

"What made you realize you loved me? You refused to for so long, what made it click?" Wally asked. 

"I don't know. I was just sitting there, thinking about Haley's and it just dawned on me. No one else I'd ever dated gave me the same feeling." Dick admitted. It felt very odd to just talk about it. Just let it out. But Wally was here to hold him, and kiss him, and tell him it was okay. And Wally loved him, he wanted Dick to let him in to explore, to understand, to build something better. 

"I'm the first person you've ever loved?" Wally smiled. Just a little half smile, but it was there. 

"Yes. I think so. There were other people I thought I loved." Dick admitted.

"Like who?" Wally rested his head on Dick's chest. 

"Kory, Zatanna, I almost thought I loved Liu, but I barely knew her." Dick said.

"Who's Liu?" Wally asked. 

"Nobody. It's not important." Dick bit his lip. He didn't want to think about her. 

"Did I hit a wall, baby?" Wally asked. Dick smiled at the pet name. 

"Liu and I went out maybe twice, then she invited me to a party, got me drunk, fucked me, and stole money from me while I slept. That's all you need to know." Dick snapped at him. Wally squeazed him tighter. 

"Is she who you were talking about at my birthday?" Wally asked softly. 

"You actually remember that?" Dick asked. 

"Yeah, babe. You were so much drunker than everyone else, and that's really saying something." Wally said, "You said you wanted to get married and then you cried a lot and left."

"It was a hard night that apparently lead to me trying to fuck my dad." Dick said. 

"You want to fuck your dad?" Wally laughed. 

"Oh my god, no!" Dick tried to keep himself from shouting. 

"So you don't think he's even a little bit hot?" Wally teased. 

"He's my dad." 

"Thats not a no." Wally winked. 

"I hate you so much." Dick pouted. 

"No you don't." Wally kissed him. 

"I do though." Dick told him, "You're the worst."

"Just say you'd never have sex with Bruce Wayne and I'll stop teasing." Wally said. Dick paused. 

"Okay, maybe he's a little bit hot. But I would never, ever even consider sleeping with him." Dick shook his head. 

"Not unless your blackout drunk." Wally kissed his cheeks. Dick whined, "Don't worry, baby. I still love you. You're still the cutest little boy in the world."

"I'm not little." Dick smiled. 

"Little in spirit." Wally held him close, "Because your mine, baby."

"I love you." Dick laughed and pulled him in for another kiss. He would never admit that he liked the teasing. It was nice being the victim for once outside of Jason's uncreative insults.

Dick was in love for the first time in his life. His boyfriend was laying on top of him, hands on his chest, kissing him for hours, and Dick was content. He felt no need to push it further, he was pleased to just sit and kiss him over, and over, and over again. And roll over and let Wally slip his hands in his back pockets to kiss him even more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love to talk about what's going on, but frankly, I'm just simply exhausted by it all and just don't have the stomach for it right now. So I would like to give what I need, a distraction, and a moment of peace. I am cheering you on with all I can. 
> 
> [Black Lives Matter](https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/)


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An odd mix of holidays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure I spell matzah differently every time I use it. I did my best to correct it to be consistent, but if I screwed up, then ignore it.
> 
> Once again, I am not Jewish. I feel way less confident about this than I did the Hanukkah chapter, but it's very hard to do research on how Passover actually goes. I have also not celebrated Easter since I was a wee babe. So just take it with a grain of salt.

Bruce felt a little bad for Alfred. His birthday was on the first night of Passover and they could hardly celebrate. They had cake and ice cream after lunch and they all tried to pitch in for dinner. They gave him presents and did everything they could to make him feel loved. 

"Master Bruce, I do so appreciate your efforts to make my birthday special, however, I have had 78 total birthdays. I can spend one of those to give you a proper Seder." Alfred insisted.

"It's still your birthday and you don't get nearly enough appreciation." Bruce said, "The kids can help you cook at the very least."

Dick had talked Bruce into letting Wally come over, but he did have to ask Wally's parents if he could drink. Clark arrived a few minutes before Wally while Tim carefully set out the China. Damian sat and read a book quietly. 

"You ready to eat?" Bruce asked. 

"Always." Clark kissed him, "Ma said I should take notes so I can tell her all about it."

"There's 15 steps and we drink a lot of wine, so you might need some notes." Bruce said. Tim ran out of the room. 

"Dad, I dropped a plate and it broke, but it wasn't a fancy plate, it was just like a normal plate, and Alfred said he could clean it up, but it's his birthday, and can you come help?" He pulled Bruce's hand. Clark smiled and sat at the table while Bruce helped clean up the broken glass. 

Once Wally arrived, the group gathered around the table. Alfred poured everyone a glass of wine except the two little ones, they got grape juice instead. 

"You let your kids drink?" Clark asked.

"Sure. They already sneak out and drink, they're just staying at the house, and it's tradition. Wally did your parents say you could have wine?" Bruce asked.

"They just said when in Rome, so I assume so." Wally shrugged. Alfred filled the boy's cup and sat back down. Bruce started reading out the first round of blessings to everyone. Dick gazed dreamily at Wally, hardly paying attention to the horrible pain and suffering he was supposed to be enduring. 

"How do I recline?" Clark whispered.

"Just lean back and act like you're rich and free." Bruce whispered back. Dick had a similar conversation with Wally, "Now we get up and wash our hands."

Bruce watched Dick gently squeaze Wally's hand.

"You guys don't have to eat the parsley if you don't want to. My three have to do it." Bruce announced. Clark and Wally both took a sprig and dipped it in salt water. Damian just watched them all make faces at it. 

"Why doesn't Damian do it?" Wally asked. 

"I'm Muslim. I'm just here because I have to be." Damian shrugged.

"Who wants to break the matzah?" Bruce asked. Tim raised his hand, "Okay someone has to help you."

"Does Wally wanna help?" Tim asked. Wally looked a little afraid, but agreed. They each grabbed a side and snapped it in half. Wally's side came out significantly larger.

"That means I get the wish?" Wally asked Dick. Dick lightly slapped his shoulder. 

"It means you get to hide it." Dick explained. 

"What?"

"Go hide it somewhere." Dick said. 

"Now?" Wally asked.

"Yeah. First story only, no bedrooms, and you have to be back before Alfred is done pouring more wine." Dick explained. Wally swore quietly and rushed out of the room. 

"Damian, would you like to take the questions this year, or do you want Tim to take it?" Bruce asked. Damian pointed to Tim. Wally slid back into his seat while Alfred poured juice for the boys. Tim read out his questions and Bruce read part of his big book. They washed their hands again and passed around matzah. 

"You do this every year?" Clark asked.

"Since I can remember. Dick, get the horseradish?" Bruce was feeling a little fuzzy around the edges. He never drank if he could help it, and even though they were technically supposed to have small glasses, Bruce never quite cared. It was the one night he was supposed to get drunk. 

At last, Alfred brought out the food. Bruce hated the traditional food as a kid, so the only thing that stayed was Alfred's roasted lamb.

"Hey, this is such a wild holiday, Dick." Wally said quietly. 

"Yeah, but all the bad stuff is over. Just food, and more wine." Dick said, "Are you having a bad time?"

"No, I'm just surprised. I wasn't sure what to expect. I did try to look stuff up to be a little prepared at least." Wally squeazed his hand. Bruce watched Dick smile, his cheeks tinted pink. 

"Boys, let's talk. Because there's guests, you're allowed to tell me later if you want, what are you trying to leave behind this year?" Bruce asked, "Clark, Wally, feel free to participate if you'd like, but you don't have to."

"Leaving behind?" Clark asked. 

"Passover is about freedom. Alfred and I did this when I was growing up, just pick something you want to leave behind and be free of. It helped me as a kid, and it seemed to help Dick." Bruce explained. Reflecting, making goals, taking steps forward, made sure Bruce kept his head above water. Life was scary, stressful, and hard, but as the years went on, he found it easier to accept and move forward. 

"Do I have to?" Damian asked.

"Yes you do. Why don't you start?" Bruce said. Damian took a deep breath.

"I want to leave behind my fear." Damian said. Bruce eyed him, encouraging him to continue, "I feel a lot of fear and embarrassment about being gay. I'd like to just move on."

"Step one, you have nothing to fear in this house." Bruce said, "Show of hands, who here is LGBT?" 

Everyone raised a hand except Tim and Alfred. Jason wavered, like he wasn't sure.

"Jason, you're queer. Get your hand up." Dick told him. Jason raised his hand.

"There you go. Home is safe." Bruce reminded him. Damian cracked a small smile, "Jason, your turn."

"Pass. I'll talk later." Jason said. Bruce looked to Wally.

"I'll pass." Wally turned to Dick. 

"I would like to work on how I react to feelings. I think I'm still a little weird from growing up with Soviet parents in the circus. Anything less than perfect is unacceptable, show must go on, all that. Not a lot of room for feelings." Dick shrugged. Wally smiled and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'd like to leave behind a lot of guilt I still have." Bruce kept things short. He'd long gotten over begging his parents to go to the theater. But Jason's accident was still fresh in his mind. And he had allowed Damian to grow up in such a scary family. It was hard not to blame himself. 

"I'll pass. Focus on the kids." Clark said. Alfred was exempt from this activity. He always had been. Which meant Tim got to finish it off.

"I'm not sure if it counts. I'm not sure what I'm leaving behind, if anything. But I've been thinking a lot about this, and I really, really wanna find my family. Everyone else has other parents that they remember. And they know different languages and stories and they have scary monsters and stuff. I don't have any. I came here when I was six, you're the only dad I know." Tim looked sadly towards Bruce.

"I forgot you're the only foster kid." Dick said quietly. 

"Drake is an English name. I looked it up. But that's all I could find." Tim shrugged.

"Well, I'll see what I can do. You were an anonymous adoption, so I wasn't allowed to know who your parents were." Bruce explained, "But I'll help as best I can." 

"Thank you." Tim smiled at Jim. 

~*~

Tim found the matzah that Wally hid. And it didn't take long for the wine to hit the group. Clark and Wally held their alcohol well, but even they were a little drunker than they were expecting on a Wednesday night. Dick had just glued himself to Wally, refusing to leave his lap after the party left for the sitting room.

"Did Jason pass out?" Clark asked. Watching Jason asleep on the couch.

"Jason's just a sleepy drunk. He's so lame at parties." Dick slurred.

"And his accident fucked up his head and alcohol hits a lot harder." Bruce nodded. 

"He had an accident?" Clark whispered. 

"Yeah. But I'm not gonna talk about it, because then I'll cry. And I don't really wanna cry right now." Bruce nodded. 

"Dick." Wally held his boyfriend's face in his hands, "We have to go to school tomorrow."

"Yeah. It'll be so fun." Dick giggled, "Dad, can Wally spend the night?" 

"I don't give a shit." Bruce shrugged, "But Alfred should call his mom."

"Yay." Dick said quietly as he snuggled into Wally's neck. Tim had wandered down in his pajamas. 

"Hey dad, who's your favorite kid?" He said with grin on his face. 

"I don't know. Depends." Bruce shrugged. 

"Lame." Tim groaned. 

"Damian is my favorite real not adopted son." Bruce said. 

"Uhg, fine." Tim left to go back upstairs. Dick pulled Wally up off the couch and stumbled away to find Alfred. Bruce looked at Jason, sleeping on the couch. He crawled over to him and slipped out his hearing aids. He tried to turn them off, but his hands weren't listening to him, so he left them on the coffee table. Maybe Alfred could help. He found a blanket to bundle Jason up in for the night. 

He let Alfred know about the hearing aids and took Clark upstairs with him. Bruce stripped down to his underwear and crawled into bed with Clark close behind. Bruce wrapped his arms around him. 

"I love you so much." Bruce muttered to him.

"I love you too." Clark pressed his face into Bruce's bare chest. 

"I wanna get married so bad." He kissed him. 

"You wanna marry me?" Clark sat up, looking over Bruce. 

"Wanna marry you and have a baby and get old with you." Bruce gazed into Clark's ethereal eyes. Like angel eyes. Clark just leaned down and kissed him. Bruce could taste the wine on his lips. He fell asleep before he could get an answer that night, and he'd probably feel awful about it in the morning, but it was out in the open now. 

~*~

Dick had no idea what Easter dinner was like. As a kid it meant Mom helped him dye eggs with a big pot of boiled onion skins. That was really the extent of the holiday. Sometimes Dad would talk about religion, but Dick just remembered the eggs and his parents not working for once. Never fancy dinner, or church, or a magical rabbit. He was nervous about Wally's family. 

Wally welcomed him inside with a quick kiss on the cheek. Dick saw Bart setting the table and he hoped against all hope he didn't remember Wally's birthday. Barry waved.

"I'm glad you came." Wally took his hand. 

"Thank you for inviting me." Dick smiled. Mary rushed in to say hello. She held her arms out for a hug as she approached. Her short hair was done up, curled at the ends to look like the kindest mom hair.

"Welcome!" She said with a big grin, "Come on in. Now, I did my best to make sure you could eat almost everything."

"Thats so sweet, thank you. I wasn't expecting you to go out of your way for me." Dick smiled. 

"Wally was so worried you wouldn't come at all." She nodded. 

"Of course I came, especially after you suffered through Passover." Dick turned to Wally.

"You drink so much wine." He whispered. 

"Yes, and we spend the night thinking about pain and suffering and slavery in Egypt while my Egyptian brother sits and is uncomfortable most of the time." Dick shrugged. 

"It's surprisingly fun." Wally said, "But, it's time to eat."

Wally sat him down at the table in the dining room. The table was extended out and some of the chairs were mismatched. The walls were painted an inoffensive shade of beige and a big china cabinet sat in the corner with a potted plant planted next to it. Family pictures decorated the walls. Including one framed watercolor painting of a farm. Not a good watercolor painting, a child's watercolor painting, signed Wally in messy blue letters. There were the Allen's wedding photos, fuzzy and over saturated in the way only pictures from the 80s really are. A few of Wally's school pictures and a small collection of pictures from his track wins hung alongside them. 

Mary and Barry brought out the food for everyone and sat down. There was an old woman Dick had never met before sitting at one end of the table. Her glasses were too big for her face. 

"Nana, this is my boyfriend, Dick." Wally told the old woman, "Dick, this is my Grandma, Nadine." 

"Pleased to meet you." Dick smiled politely. 

"How'd you convince your family to let you leave on Easter?" She asked in a thick Metropolis accent. 

"I'm Jewish. We don't celebrate Easter?" Dick shook his head, "And we had our Seder on Wednesday."

"You're dating a Jew?" She turned to Wally. 

"Whole word next time, Nana. And yes, you'll like him." Wally responded. She squinted at Dick, but didn't say anything.

"Hey, Dick. You're like an acrobat right?" Bart asked. Dick nodded. 

"Can you teach me how to do a backflip?" He grinned. 

"Sure. We can go out after dinner." Dick promised. Nadine chuckled.

"I didn't know you were an acrobat." Mary looked impressed as she took her seat at the table. 

"I started when I was five." He smiled. He caught Wally staring at him with such a stupid grin on his face. He felt his face what up a little. 

"Do you do other sports?" Rudy asked.

"I did play varsity basketball. But I broke my back and couldn't play this year." Dick said. He was technically still healing, but he couldn't care less. He was going to be high up, and no one could stop him.

"What happened?" A flash of concern washed over Rudy's face. 

"I do aerial silks, and I lost my grip and fell I think 10 feet during practice." Dick said, "I broke a few of my vertebrae, several ribs, and gave myself whiplash and a concussion."

"Oh wow." Mary gasped, "Do you think you'll ever do it again?" 

"I have been. I'm performing at a charity festival in June." He said. 

They talked more over dinner. A small part of Dick was desperate to win Nadine over, but the other part of him knew if she hated him, she was just going to hate him. He tried not to let slip who his dad was, but questions about family were inevitable. He told them he was adopted, and he had three little brothers, and they lived with their dad and their grandfather.

"Dick, can we please go practice now?" Bart begged while Dick tried to help clean up. 

"Let me clean up a few dishes first." Dick insisted. 

"Absolutely not. You're a guest, go out and have fun." Mary took the dirty plates from him. Dick smiled sheepishly. 

"Wally, come help me outside. I want to watch." Nadine said. Wally helped wheel her out of the dining room and onto the back patio so she could see Dick and Bart.

"Okay, first, just julp. Use your whole body to get as high as you can, and tuck your knees as close to your chest as you can." Dick demonstrated. He'd been doing this for years, so he could knee himself in the chin if he wasn't careful. Bart stuck his tongue out in concentration and jumped. 

"Nice job. Try that a few more times." Dick instructed. Every so often, he would critique his form and help him fix it, but overall Bart was doing well.

"This is hard." Bart said. He was already getting out of breath. 

"Yeah. A lot of it is hard. But at the end you'll do a backflip, and that'll be super cool." Dick smiled. Bart was a cute kid. He showed him how to somersault and roll with momentum. 

He saw Wally talking with Nadine. He didn't hear what they were saying, but Wally still had that stupid grin on his face and Dick adored.

"Think you can jump and roll now?" Dick asked him. Bart beamed at him and nodded. He stuck out his tongue and leaped back. He landed and stumbled, almost falling back. Dick caught his hand and pulled him back upright, "Close! Just work on that landing."

"How did you just catch him like that?" Wally asked loudly from the patio. 

"I have three little brothers and I work with kids." Dick responded. He turned back to help Bart. He flipped a few more times, and at last, he landed solid on his feet. His eyes went wide and he ran inside shouting for his dad. Dick walked up next to Wally and pecked his check softly.

"Not bad kid." Nadine nodded, "You're a good teacher." 

"Thank you." Dick smiled, "I really love kids."

"Except Damian?" Wally raised an eyebrow. 

"I love Damian a lot. I just don't know what I'm supposed to do with him. He's the least amount of a child I think he could possibly be at 11." Dick explained. Wally held his hand.

"I think it'll get easier as he gets older." Wally said. 

"Definitely." Dick nodded.

"Did you have Easter in Russia?" Wally asked him. 

"Sort of. I dyed eggs as a kid. But we couldn't afford the dye kits, so Mom made homemade dye." Dick said. Nadine was now looking up at him, "Onion skins, beets, turmeric when we had it, cabbage, and spinach I think is what she used to use."

"You were like real poor." Wally's eyes went wide. 

"How much money do you think a circus performer makes? It's not a lot." Dick shrugged.

"I guess now you don't need to worry about it." Wally said. Dick smiled. He wanted to kiss him so bad. He wanted to grab his shoulders and pull him in. He wanted to wrap his legs around his waist and make Wally carry him. And he absolutely would have if they were alone.

You're a powerful kid." Nadine nodded. 

"Powerful?" That was a new adjective to describe him.

"Yes. You've got a powerful soul. Use it." She nodded. Dick turned a little red. 

"Am I powerful, Nana?" Wally asked. 

"No. You're just Wally." Nadine looked at him sternly. 

"Okay." He whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Black creators to support on YouTube:  
> amandabb  
> Deeper Than Hair TV  
> Jackie Aina  
> Lana Summer  
> MacDoesIt  
> Nyma Tang  
> Nyane Lebajoa  
> SpringSims
> 
> This is a very short list of people I've watched for a long time. I plan to add more as I update chapters, so leave names in the comments for me. Artists, musicians, writers, black owned businesses. Whatever you've got.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason had an accident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW/TW: Car accident, surgery, serious injury, blood
> 
> All triggering content is contained within the ~*~*~

Bruce knocked on Jason's door before he came in. It had been three years since the crash and Bruce wanted to know how Jason was handling it. He was sitting on his bed, reading, when Bruce came in. Bass heavy music poured from his speaker. 

"How are you?" He asked. Jason shrugged. His nose was still a little crooked from when he broke it. 

"I'm fine, I guess." He said, "Thinking I should try to learn sign language."

"It might not be a bad idea. The whole family could learn." Bruce cracked a smile.

"Yeah." Jason nodded. 

"Try not to hole yourself up. It's not good for you." Bruce said.

"I know." Jason responded. Bruce decided it would be best to just let him be. 

~*~*~

Jason usually didn't remember the accident. But sometimes, his mind would wander down little rabbit trails and he'd end up right back there. It was still foggy in his mind, but he remembered hearing a lot of banging and scraping. 

Someone had rear ended them hard enough to make them swerve into a street lamp. They never found out who it was, but it wouldn't change much if they did.

Jason remembered feeling his neck pop and thinking it was broken. He remembered the air bag going off a half second too late and bashing him over the head. He remembered being crunched up against the metal of the door. He remembered being covered in more blood than he knew he had. And above all, he remembered he couldn't hear a thing. 

Bruce ended up being mostly fine. He'd broken a couple ribs, minor concussion, some pretty major bruising and muscle strain. But Bruce hadn't hit his head, and Bruce hadn't been squished up so tight he couldn't move, and Bruce could get out of the car right away. 

Jason could never really remember what happened after. He wasn't sure how they got him out of the car. He didn't remember how he got to the hospital. He did remember seeing a paramedic trying to talk to him and asking why he couldn't hear. His voice had become nothing more than a deep rumble in his chest. 

The doctors would write to him on a whiteboard. They would point to a pain scale and Jason would to his best to hold up his fingers. The doctors told him he'd had some pretty severe head trauma, and there would probably be some long term problems. Memory loss, confusion, new sensitivities, mood swings, high risk of seizures, and a host of other things. 

They said he'd broken bones in his ears, but there was a simple surgery to fix it. Of course there had been complications. His ears had gotten infected. It was a simple fix, just a course of antibiotics, but he wasn't ever able to get his full hearing back.

His hearing aids were smaller than he thought they should be, and he got black so they'd blend in with his hair. He'd worn it long and shaggy back then, but the constant rustling was too much and he had the sides shaved short.

~*~*~

Jason's biggest heartbreak with his hearing was music. He loved music. He and Dick had been learning guitar together when the crash happened. He could still listen to music, but it wasn't the same. It felt flat now, and he had a hard time with higher pitches. He'd given up his dreams of being a mucisian. Can't play music if you can't hear it properly. 

Dick always compared him to Beethoven. A deaf mucisian prone to mood swings. Jason knew that was different. Jason could hear, and the next moment he lived in a world of meaningless vibration. Beethoven's hearing went slowly. He could get used to it.

He still sang sometimes. To himself, in his room, when no one was listening. It just felt nice to use his voice and feel the sound roll out of his chest. He'd found himself drawn to heavy bass that he could feel in his teeth. 

He closed his book to start cleaning up his room. He was 15, it was always messy. He turned the music up a little quieter and sang to himself. He knew he was off key, and wasn't hitting the right notes, but he was having a nice time. He knew he was a bad singer, but it didn't take the fun away from singing alone in his room.

~*~

Bruce saw Dick sitting on the floor outside Jason's room like a puppy waiting to come inside. 

"Dick, what-" 

"Shush." He whispered, "Come listen."

He pulled Bruce down on the floor with him and stayed quiet. Jason was singing along to the music playing. 

"He only does this when he thinks no one can hear him. He's really good." Dick grinned. He still spoke quietly. Bruce sat and listened. He recognized the artist from Tim, but he couldn't place the name. It was a few lines of singing, then a bit of rap, then the same lines. It was about feeling glad and sunshine and being useless. Bruce didn't get it, but Dick was right, Jason was good. 

"You should ask him to perform at your thing." Bruce whispered. Dick 's eyes lit up, he opened his mouth to say something, but the wooden door swung open. Jason stood with a pair of scissors that did belong in the kitchen drawer. His face flushed hot red. 

"What the fuck." He asked quietly.

"Do you want to perform at the festival?" Dick blurted out. 

"What?" 

"You can sing. We can perform together if you'd like." Dick lept up and took his hands.

"No one wants to listen to me." Jason rolled his eyes. 

"But you're really good. And we can cater to what you're good at." Dick begged. 

"No." Jason yanked himself away. 

"Please? I can help you find music. I can be there with you. It can just be this once. We can get you training if you want. You'd be great." Dick didn't reach for Jason again.

"No, I'd be awful." He crossed his arms. 

"Jason, I keep trying to tell your this. What happened was horrible, awful, nightmarish. But your hearing aids are just glasses for your ears. You can be a painter and still wear glasses, and you can be a musician and still wear hearing aids." Dick tried to explain. 

"Except it still doesn't sound the same as before." He was starting to fume. Bruce knew he'd erupt if they kept pushing. He tried to step in, but Dick was just as hot-headed, just passionate instead of filled with rage.

"Then we adjust. If this is something you love, you should take a leap of faith. Trust yourself. Trust me. You're talented." Dick promised. He may be four years older, but he was already at eye level with Jason.

"Don't telll me what I should do." Jason's voice was getting louder, "All you do is take leaps of faith. It's hard out here for normal people, circus freak."

"Jason, that's enough. Dick, he doesn't need to do a single thing." Bruce stepped between them, "Recess time. Go cool off and talk later."

Dick stormed out of the room and Jason plopped down on his bed.

"He's doing his best to help you. Sometimes he gets boxed in and assumes everyone thinks like he does. He's got a big heart, he just hasn't figured out what to do with it yet." Bruce explained calmly. Jason sighed.

"He's just so stupid sometimes." He flung himself back on his bed. Bruce put a hand on his shoulder. 

"He's trying. I'll leave you to relax while I go talk to him." Bruce stood and left the room. He wandered the house looking for Dick. He was pacing in the library, biting his nails. 

"Why doesn't he realize how talented he is. He's amazing and he just refuses to acknowledge it." Dick chewed his thumb. 

"He doesn't exactly have it easy. You were lucky enough to be praised for being artistic and creative and eccentric, Jason wasn't. Jason's family did not love him like yours did. Let him use his talents as he sees fit." Bruce stood and watched his son. 

"You don't care at all that he's just throwing it away?" Dick threw his hands up. 

"I don't think he is. I think he's figuring things out as he goes. He's 15, he has time." Bruce explained. Dick stopped to sit on the floor. Bruce came to sit with him. 

"I'm just so confused." Dick stared into his lap. 

"That's okay. He's not you. As kids, you two might as well have been clones. But he's growing up. You're a very different man now. And Jason's on his way." Bruce put a hand on his back. Dick took a deep breath. Bruce was really amazed how similar they were. A perfect match. Father and son.

Jason stepped in the room quietly. He padded softly up to Dick and sat across from him. 

"I'm sorry I called you a circus freak. If you really think it'll work, then let's sing. I can't make any promises, but I can try. For you." Jason said. Dick blinked back at him.

"For me?" Dick held a hand to his chest. 

"You're my big brother. I trust you. And you think I have a place in this big festival thing. You deserve to have a good run." Jason squeazed his hand softly. Dick smiled.

"Then I'll prove to you, you're worth it." He laughed. 

"You're still a circus freak. But like an Elsa Mars kinda circus freak." Jason smiled. 

"If she gets to sing Life on Mars, because it's a pun. What song to I get to sing?" Dick asked.

"Dick in a box? We can put you in that shitty lingerie that looks like you're wrapped in ribbon." Jason suggested. Bruce rolled his eyes. 

"That sounds like it would set a very different tone." Dick smiled. 

~*~

Jason sat with Dick, trying to look for music. Dick had propped himself up on Jason's shoulder while he scrolled through music on his phone. 

"Jason, can I ask you something?" He asked. 

"I guess." Jason shrugged his free shoulder.

"So you're ace aro. Do you still think people are attractive?" He turned around so they could talk face to face.

"I don't know." He shook his head, "I guess objectively yeah."

"So it's just that everyone is not your type?" Dick bit his lip.

"Yeah." He nodded.

"Do you think you'll ever tell Dad?" He asked.

"Maybe. I don't really see the point in bringing it up. Dad doesn't give a shit if I wanna fuck or not. Why bother?" Jason scrolled through the music on his phone.

"Because it's important to talk about things. And it helps him understand you better. And he does care, because he cares about you." Dick squeezed his hand softlt.

"You didn't tell him you weren't straight." Jason raised an eyebrow. 

"Yeah, but I didn't need to. Because he did catch me making out with a boy, fully in his lap, when I was 13. He can't catch you just not being in a relationship." Dick reminded him. Jason laughed.

"I do remember that. Dad was still trying so hard." He smiled wide. 

"He tried to give me a sex talk after that. He was so awkward and uncomfortable." Dick giggled. 

"Oh fuck. What was that like?" Jason groaned loudly.

"He struggled to say the word condom and then I told him I grew up in a circus and I did in fact know what STDs were. I have never seen him look so relieved in my entire life." Dick nodded. 

"Damian really just broke him. He's the most sex positive 11 year old I have ever met in my entire life." Jason chuckled. Dick snorted. The pair devolved into a fit of giggles and very little work getting done. Jason loved his big brother so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up finding and getting recommended so many black creators and brands that to put it in the notes would be insane. So I've put everything in a big doc, which you can find [here](https://docs.google.com/document/d/15RrRoJ5G8Mg_1iEoZgGNxosqLfAJdQnKjH4RqqAOMBM/edit?usp=drivesdk).
> 
> As much as I want to put emphasis on black creators, I need help. I'm in college and it has been nearly impossible to find a job. I've had a lot of help up to this point, but I'm getting a little desperate. So I set up a [Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/bePatron?u=23762942) where you can read original short stories that are actually edited for real. Please don't feel obligated, but I would appreciate you going to check it out. Thank you so much!


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim has a family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I missed a day! I had a very long week and I just didn't have much motivation to write anything.

Bruce had searched for weeks for a lead on Tim's family. The adoption agency said he'd been surrendered by the state, not a parent or relative. They dug through records to find anything they could. Last week, they finally found something. A woman by the name of Annabelle Drake that signed some of his paperwork. Bruce found Miss Drake's email asked if she knew a boy named Timothy Drake, he would be about 12 years old. This morning he got a response. He had to wait until after work to tell Tim the good news. He didn't want to reply until he discussed things with Tim. 

After the longest day of work of his life, he finally came home and went up to see Tim in his room. He was doing homework and watching something on YouTube with music played quietly. 

"Hi Dad." He spun around in his office chair to face Bruce. 

"I've got something." He tossed his phone to Tim with the email pulled up. 

_Dear Mr. Wayne,_

_Timmy is my grandson. I am incredibly happy he was adopted in the end and wasn't simply left in foster care. I'm pleased he has brothers to spend his days with. My son had no intention to have more children, as he was an only child himself. What are his brothers' names? Does Timmy like them? Is he doing well? I would so love to know what my grandson is like._

_You asked for information regarding his parents. My son's name was Jack, his wife, Janet. They ran a shared business together and did quite well for themselves. They were both Jewish. Sadly, they were killed in a car accident nearly 10 years ago, Timmy was not yet 4. Wow! Time really does just keep passing me by. I am more than happy to share more with you._

_Sincerely,_  
_Annabelle Gabey Drake_

Tim's eyes lit up as he read. He read it over and over again, just absorbing it all. He was beaming.

"My grandma's name is Annabelle." Tim grinned at Bruce's phone, "My dad's name is Jack. My mom's name was Janet. What do you think they looked like? Do you think I look like my mom or my dad? Can I go meet my grandma? Do you think she knits? Can she teach me how to knit? What if-"

"Tim." Bruce interrupted. Tim took a deep breath and stopped talking, "I can talk to her. I can give you her email if you'd like."

"Yes please." Tim smiled and snapped his fingers. 

~*~

The next week everyone was loading their stuff into two cars. Bruce was taking Clark, Alfred, Damian, and Titus. Dick was taking Jason and Tim. Bruce had dropped Alfred the cat off with Silena, he would have fun with her cats. Damian had begged to take Alfred too, but Annabelle was allergic to cats.

Detroit wasn't too far away, they could drive there in a day. Yeah, they could fly, but a day's drive wasn't too bad and then he didn't need to arrange it all. If they needed to, they could stop in Cleveland for the night, maybe somewhere in Pennsylvania if they were desperate. 

"Dami, are you sure you don't wanna come in the fun car with us?" Dick put a hand on his shoulder, "I'm sure Titus could fit." 

Damian shook his head, "No thank you. I would rather stay with Dad."

"Okay, but we're just a phonecall away if you change your mind." Dick climbed in the car with his little brothers. Damian called the dog. Titus sat patiently and waited for Damian to sit down so he could rest his head on his lap. 

"Alright, let's move out." Bruce saiannounced. Damian took some motion sickness medicine and turned on a book on tape. Alfred did the same.

"Are you excited to meet her?" Clark smiled softly. Bruce's heart melted.

"I think it'll be interesting. I appreciate how accommodating she is. We're not an easy bunch as I'm sure you've noticed." He shrugged.

"You're great, and your kids are great, and it's hard not to love you all." Clark said. 

"I love you too." Bruce had no idea if Clark meant it that way, but Bruce was just hopelessly in love. Part of him hated how strongly he felt, but the little boy who spun around in dresses and made flower crowns and sang on stage was so happy to be allowed to love again.

"How long are we staying?" Clark hadn't bothered to fix his hair, so his curls were messy and hung in his face. It made Bruce's heart ache to see. 

"A week. But if you need to get back to work, give me a day's notice." Bruce said.

"Thank you." Clark grinned. 

"Of course dear." Bruce was desperate to reach for his hand to kiss his knuckles. He wanted to lay in bed while the sun came up while they hid under the sheets and kissed. He wanted to dig his fists in Clark's hair and feel him melt.

"Hey, Dad." Damian was quiet in the backseat, "Jon invited me over to play video games when we get back." 

"Have you ever played video games?" Bruce asked. 

"No, but Jon said it's fun and I haven't figured out how to read books together yet." Damian said.

"You could read books to him." Bruce suggested. 

"Maybe. But I would rather not infantilize him if it can be helped." Damian furrowed his brows.

"Well, you're also just a lot more mature than Jon is. Which means you have a really strong handle on yourself and the world, but it also means you've never played video games before." Bruce explained. 

"Because video games are for children." Damian said.

"You are a child still. Do you know that? You're not even in middle school yet and we had a full debate about global warming and pollution the other day." Bruce sighed, "I want you to be a kid sometimes. You don't need to be an adult yet."

"So I can go play with Jon?" He asked.

"Of course." Bruce smiled. 

~*~

"Tim's turn to pick a song!" Dick tossed his phone in the backseat. Tim cheered and flipped through playlists before selecting something by Bowling for Soup. Dick knew every work but couldn't sing to save his life. 

"Dick, what's a two way?" Tim asked. Jason snickered. 

"It's like a thong, but without a front part." Dick explained. 

"How does that work?" Tim frowned. 

"Tim, do you know what a vagina looks like?" Dick smirked. 

"Uh, yeah. I think so." He bit his lip. 

"And you know how a thong works?" Dick asked.

"Yeah, it goes up your butt crack." Tim giggled. Dick rolled his eyes at his little brother. 

"So a two way goes up the butt and up the front." Dick said. Tim turned red.

"Why?" He asked quietly. 

"Because it makes them feel good." Dick told him. 

"But I thought it was just like a hole and you just, went." Tim used his fingers to demonstrate. Dick couldn't stop himself from laughing. He smacked Jason's arm. 

"Show him like an educational vagina picture. Not porn, this is for teaching." Dick told him, "Sleeping around as much as I did has to count for something."

"You've had sex?" Tim's eyes went wide with amazement. 

"You have no idea." Dick chuckled. 

"Have you had sex with Wally?" Tim asked. 

"Yes. And plenty of girls too, so you get to learn about vaginas. And your future partners will thank me if you date people with pussies." Dick said. Jason handed back an anatomy drawing. 

"It's so squishy looking." Tim looked a little grossed out. 

"It's a little squishy. But that bit on the top-" 

"The little ball looking thing?" Tim asked. 

"Yep, the little ball looking thing. That's the most sensitive spot. And a two way rubs up on that, and it feels good." They explained. Tim nodded. 

"Is it okay to teach me about vaginas and sex and stuff? Is Dad gonna get mad?" Tim handed Jason his phone back. 

"I don't think it's bad as long as you're not going out and fucking when you're 12 years old. And Dad can't get mad at us if we don't tell him." Dick grinned. Tim laughed.

"Can I say the F-word too?" Tim asked. 

"Don't tell Dad." Dick cheered.

"Fuck!" Tim yelled. The car applauded for him, "So what's a tampon for?" 

~*~

Damian was out walking Titus at a rest stop. He had to make sure the big boy got out and stretched his legs. A woman with an A-line bob walked up and asked how old he was.

"I don't know. He was a rescue." Damian told her. 

"Oh how sweet of you for taking in a dog in need." Her accent told him they must be close to Ohio by now. Titus tried to jump up on her and sniff.

"Tahat. Ijlis." Damian commanded. Titus sat down and waited to be bed. The woman looked surprised.

"So, where are you from?" She asked. 

"New Jersey." Damian answered. 

"No, you know what I mean. Like where are you really from?" She gestured at him. 

"Uh." Damian had no idea where he was really from. He thought saying Jersey would be good enough for a stranger. 

"Like your people?" She clarified. 

"Uhm, my mom is Egyptian?" Damian shrugged. He could've announced that earlier, but frankly, he just didn't think he owed it to this woman. Damian was Damian, he lived in New Jersey with his brothers. What else could she want? 

"Oh thank goodness." She clutched her chest, "I'm so glad you're not one of those ISIS people. You're black."

"What are you talking about?" Damian squinted at her. 

"Egypt is in Africa. And Africans are all black." She grinned. 

"I'm Arabic. And also, South Africa has a huge white population." Damian explained to her.

"No, that's different." She shrugged him off. 

"What? Why?" He frowned at her. 

"Ugh, you wouldn't get it you're just a kid." She rolled her eyes. Damian blinked. How on earth could she possibly know more about Africa than Damian did. How could she know better than Damian about his ethnicity. 

"Damian, Dad said its time to go. Did Titus get a good walk in?" Jason asked. Damian reached out for his hand, "Is she saying dumb stuff?" 

"Yeah." Damian sighed. 

"Come on, just ignore it. She's hopeless." Jason sighed and helped the dog back in the car. Damian frowned.

After a few minutes of driving, Clark spoke up. 

"You look upset. What's wrong?" He asked. 

"Am I black? I don't feel black. But I'm African, so does mean I have to be?" Damian asked. He felt so confused by the whole affair. 

"If you don't feel black, then you're not. Simple as that." Bruce shrugged, "African and black are two different things. Bob Marley wasn't African. And Elon Musk is. So what do you think you are?" 

"Arabic. Middle Eastern. Muslim." Damian stated out the window.

"I think that's reasonable." Bruce shrugged. 

"Does it really matter much?" Clark asked. 

"It matters a lot." Damian said bluntly. He was too deep in thought to provide details.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Annabelle.

The group had checked into a hotel, even though Annabelle insisted she had a couple extra bedrooms they could use. Bruce felt more polite about it this way. Tim was bouncing with anticipation at the prospect of meeting his grandmother.

Damian's stomach growled, and everyone turned to look at him, "The sun has been down for an hour, I've usually eaten more by now."

"You know you don't have to fast. You're a child, and you're traveling." Bruce reminded him. 

"But I want to." Damian crossed his arms over his chest.

"Ramadan is also a good time to volunteer, or donate, or just be especially mindful." Bruce made sure the boys got settled in their room. They could split themselves up and be fine. 

"I'm doing that too. It's almost over anyway." Damian shrugged. 

"Okay, but remember, you have room service, Dick can take you out to get food, we've still got road trip snacks, and there's vending machines. Whatever you want." Bruce placed a hand on his shoulder. 

"Thank you." Damian bowed his head. Bruce gave each of them a tight hug and left them to their own devices.

"Damian, what do you want to eat?" Dick asked. 

Damian's eyes went wide, "Can we get bad food?" 

"What kinda bad food?" Dick laughed. 

"Like a blizzard, and mac and cheese, and cupcakes, and vinegar chips, and-"

"Let's just go shopping real quick. Text me what you want for dinner." Dick grabbed his keys and a hotel key. Damian followed, leaving Jason and Tim with the dog. 

"You excited to meet Annabelle?" Jason asked. Tim lit up with joy and nodded, "I bet she's so nice."

"She was really nice in her emails and she said she has birds. And she said she's trying to grow an herb garden, but it's hard on her arthritis. And she asked to see my robotics trophies." Tim nearly shook with excitement.

Jason laughed, "What kind of birds?" 

"I don't know. But we're going to see her in the morning, so we can find out then." Tim smiled.

"You got your meds? You don't want to be all spacey tomorrow." Jason reminded. 

"I remembered." Tim nodded. 

"You still play Minecraft?" Jason asked. 

"Yeah. I have a full set of diamond armor now. And a dog. And bees." Tim loved Minecraft. It helped him narrow down his thinking and streamline his mind into a single train of thought instead of just a big fog of scrambled words and half formed ideas. 

"Hell yeah. You ever gonna defeat the dragon?" Jason asked. 

"Yeah but I need more ender pearls and eyes of ender first." Tim shrugged. 

"You'll get there. Bring too many arrows and remember dirt to climb up the pillars." Jason tapped the side of his head. 

"I know. I've got a brewery set up so I can make health potions too." Tim nodded. Jason high five him.

~*~

Tim was nearly vibrating with excitement. Annabelle's lawn was full of weird glass decorations and lawn ornaments. Her door was decorated with a wreath made of twigs and twine. The house was a little Victorian cottage made of brick. 

The woman who answered the door wasn't exactly what Tim expected. Her long hair was dyed bubblegum pink and naturally curled in little ringlets. She wore a brightly colored dress with a long white cardigan pushed up to her elbows. She had all sorts of chunky plastic jewelry. 

"Timmy." She grinned and enveloped him in the tightest hug Tim had ever experienced, "Come inside, everyone. I just put the kettle on. 

Tim couldn't wait to explore her house. Her antique China cabinets were filled with beanie babies and Barbie dolls. Windchimes and stained glass hung from her ceiling and caught the afternoon sun, turning the room a rainbow of colors.

"You have lovely black eyed susans, Miss Drake." Alfred gazed at the vase full of yellow flowers.

"Why thank you." She beamed at him, "I grew them myself. I still need to plant my herb garden before it's too hot for them."

"Our clematis is coming in beautifully this year. Jason has a true green thumb." Alfred gestured back to Jason, making him blush.

"Oh, we should exchange pictures." She has a high laugh, like a flute. It made Tim smile. 

"Of course." Alfred cracked a smile. Tim glanced between the two. Did old people still have crushes on people? He tried to keep his nose from wrinkling at the thought.

"Line up for me and let me guess your names. My little Timmy has told me all about you." Annabelle clapped her hands together and went down the line to guess who they were. Dick was the strongest brother. Bruce was Dad. Clark was Dad's boyfriend with nice hair. Damian was very serious. Alfred had a mustache. And Jason looked a little scary, but he liked girl clothes sometimes. 

"I'm not that serious." Damian frowned.

"You never play with me ever. You're always busy reading or cleaning or something." Tim pouted. 

"I play with you." Damian held his head high. The two were about the same height.

"You play Pokémon with me because you want to impress Jon." Tim folded his arms.

"Who's Jon?" Annabelle asked. Damian hid his face in his hands. 

"Damian's boyfriend." Dick teased him. 

"He's not my boyfriend." Damian glared at him. 

"You just talk about him all the time and get all smiley when you see him and hold his hand." Dick giggled. 

"Oh to be young and in love." Annabelle stared off dreamily in the distance. 

The kettle whistled, insisting on being taken off the heat. She poured mugs of hot water and pulled out a basket of various teas for the group to select from. Jason leaned over to Tim. 

"Do kettles make noises?" He whispered.

"Yeah. They whistle really loudly." Tim told him. 

"Oh. I thought that was just a cartoon thing." Jason scratched the back of his neck. 

"You can't hear it?" Tim tilted his head. 

"No." Jason shook his head, "I can't hear many high pitched sounds

That gave Tim an idea. He pulled out his phone and typed something out. He drew a quick sketch in his notes and tucked it away for a later date. Maybe this thought would be helpful in the end.

Annabelle passed out tea in mismatched mugs to everyone but Damian, who declined politely. Tim's looked like Mickey Mouse's legs with his shorts. His hand on his hip formed the handle. A squawking sound come from upstairs. Annabelle rolled her eyes and left the group. She returned with a pair of green birds with pretty pink faces sitting in her hands.

"Carl and Ellie were having a bit of a civil disagreement upstairs." She placed them on a little bird stand in the corner and returned to the group.

"You don't cage them?" Bruce asked. 

"I keep them caged upstairs, they're very well trained and they know when they need to go back up." Annabelle promised, "Would you like to see some pictures, Timmy? I found some old photo albums just for this visit."

"I would love to." Tim would finally know what his family looked like. Maybe even what he looked like as a baby. Maybe he would be the first to see his own baby pictures, or even keep a few. 

Annabelle smiled and set a large leather photo album on the table. She allowed the family to gather around to see the pictures. She pointed to a photo of a chubby boy in a suite, with gelled black hair and acne. He was surrounded by balloons and posed with a redheaded girl with braces wearing a long glittery gold dress that clung tightly to her thin frame, "That's Jack and Janet's photo from senior prom in 2001."

"Those are my parents?" Tim grinned.

"Yes, they had been dating for two weeks in this picture. I remember Jack was so nervous to ask her to prom. He bought her flowers, and made a big sign for her. It was absolutely precious." Annabelle gestured wildly, "Now, this is his high school graduation."

Tim saw photos of his father leaving for college, getting his first degree in Engineering, moving in with Janet, getting a second business degree. He saw his parents first house, and their engagement photos.

"That's you, Timmy." Annabelle smiled at a little ultrasound print. Tim blinked at the picture. It was so hard to think he actually had a mom. He knew that he had one of course, everyone did. But he never really experienced it. Seeing that picture put everything in perspective, his mom went to a doctor, maybe with his dad, and they sat and held hands and smiled at the baby. We're they excited? Or scared? Or maybe both?

His mother's strapless wedding gown was fitted with an empire waist to accommodate her growing belly. She was so beautiful. 

"Wow, you look so much like your mom." Dick muttered. 

"She was such a lovely woman, Timmy. I will say, I did prepare myself to see my son walk through those doors again, but you are your mother's son in the end." She smiled sadly and pat his cheeks. Tim couldn't help but hug her as tightly as he could, "Oh, darling. Your father would be so proud of who you're becoming." 

They flipped through more photos. Janet gently cradled him in the hospital. He saw baby's first day home, first day opening his eyes, first time rolling over, first smile, first tooth, first steps, first Hanukkah. He flipped through pages and pages of photos.

"Wait, hold on. Go back a couple." Dick put a hand on his shoulder. Tim flipped a few pages back, "Do you know where they are in this one, Annabelle?" 

"The circus I suppose." She shrugged.

"I think that's me." Dick whispered and bit his thumb. The picture showed Janet posing with two adult circus performers and a boy holding Tim as a chunky little toddler. 

"That's you?" Annabelle turned to look at him.

"Yeah. Actually, I think I remember this. I was way too young to hold a baby, who let me do that?" Dick giggled quietly. 

Annabelle slipped the picture out of the plastic sleeve and flipped it over to read a small paragraph about the photo, "Took Tim to Haley's while visiting Gotham. He was a little nervous, so we introduced his to some performers. This lovely Russian family spoke very little English, but the boy made up for it in sheer enthusiasm about the baby."

"You're not Russian, are you?" Annabelle looked up at him.

"Да, я русская." Dick replied, "Pодился Санкт-Петербург."

Tim had no idea what he was saying, but he did prove his point. Tim was mesmerized by the image. Dick had always been there. A constant in his life. 

"I remember I had just learned how to say baby because one of our performers was out of family leave. And just the sweetest people tried to talk to us, but we were all useless. People never actually wanted to talk. We figured it out obviously, but I specifically remember seeing the baby and getting so happy. I just repeated baby over and over again, because I didn't know how to ask. I told everyone that would listen that I got to hold a baby." Dick laughed, but he didn't break eye contact with the photo. Tim wondered how long it had been since Dick had been able to see his parents without being reminded of what happened. 

"Is it okay if we keep this picture? Or a copy maybe?" Tim asked his new grandmother.

"Of course. I'll have someone help me make copies for you." Annabelle grinned. Tim thanked her. He was sure Dick would appreciate the photo, even if it was diluted by Tim and his mother. Tim held Dick's hand softly. 

"Always my big brother." Tim told him. 

"Tim, you can't say that stuff to me. I'll start crying." Dick squeezed his hand. 

"Commie bitch." Jason told him. Dick glared, "What? I thought we were making you cry."

"Jason, please don't swear during Ramadan." Damian told him. 

"My bad. Didn't mean to insult God." Jason raised his hands in defense. Damian nodded his head and turned back to the pictures.

"Love you, Tim." Dick wrapped an arm around his slim shoulders. 

"Love you too." Tim smiled up at his big brother. He'd do anything for his brother. Whatever it may be in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Да, я русская - Yes, I am Russian  
> Pодился Санкт-Петербург - I was born in St. Petersburg
> 
> Can't remember if I was using Cryrillic or Romanized Russian before. But we're going Cyrillic this time around. Please feel free to correct my translations also. 
> 
> No idea if anyone has noticed. But the amount of total chapters has changed a few times. Ignore it, I'm just planning and moving and changing and figuring out what scenes I must sadly cut out.


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim makes something new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Midsummer and Father's day to everyone. And to those who may have difficult relationships with your fathers, I am proud of you. You're making it through.

Damian refused to admit how excited he really was about playing video games. He got to see Jon again finally. After school got out for the summer he'd missed his friend more than anything.

Jon scrolled through the games on his Xbox, "Octodad is about an octopus that's also a dad. But it's kinda frustrating."

"Not that then." Damian shook his head. He would not get upset and throw a fit in the presence of Jon.

"Okay. Castle Crashers you get to be a knight and rescue the princesses from the evil wizard. And Battle Block Theater you have to rescue your friends from cats. And we have lots of Lego games. And Goat Simulator is when you're a weird goat." Jon looked over to Damian for input. Damian was far too distracted by how far away he was on the other side of the couch, and how cute his hair looked.

Jon snapped under his nose to get his attention. Damian blinked and felt his face heat up. 

"Aw, you're blushing." He grinned. Damian scowled, "No, don't do that. I liked before better."

"Sorry." Damian slouched down on the couch and looked away. He wasn't sure why he was so angry today, but he had a shorter temper than usual.

"Damian, are you nervous again?" Jon reached out and gently touched his hand. Damian shrugged, "Did you bring one of your animals?" 

"No." Damian rolled his eyes. He wasn't a child. He didn't need stuffed animals all the time. 

"Do you wanna borrow one? I don't have a lot, but I can go look." Jon looked concerned. The game controller sat on the coffee table waiting for him. 

Damian took a deep breath and hung his head, "Yes, please."

Jon rushed away and left Damian alone in his living room. The apartment was small, the kitchen and living room both shared the space of a single room. It made Damian feel a little claustrophobic, but he could swallow his pride to be close to him. Jon returned with a stuffed Pikachu. Damian had been watching the show with Tim, and Pikachu was that bratty little rat that was forced onto Ash. Why would Jon like him? 

"Isn't Pikachu mean?" Damian blinked up at him. 

"Yeah, at first. But then they start being friends, and then he's just protective of Ash." Jon sits closer to Damian than before. He's close enough to lean on, or reach out and touch. 

"What would you like to play?" Damian squeezed the soft velvety toy. His cheeks and eyes were embroidered on, and felt hard and rough against his arms wrapped around him. 

"Castle Crashers is fun." Jon smiled and booted up the game. He explained all the colors and the magic they had. Blue was ice, green was poison, red was electricity, orange was fire, and pink was rainbows.

"What should I pick?" Damian scrolled through the characters. 

"I wanna be pink. What if you're green and we can be watermelon boys?" Jon smiled. His pink knight had a matching lollipop sword. Damian picked the green knight and off they went. Jon picked an easy level to show him what buttons to push to hit people. Damian caught on quickly, it wasn't that hard. 

It didn't take much time to find the four princesses tied up by the bad guys. All but one was carried away from the giant they were forced to fight. The fight was easy the giant followed a very precise set of moves that he cycled through. When the boss finally fell, the knight characters lept into a dueling stance and Jon paused the game. 

"Whoever wins gets to kiss the princess." He turned to Damian, "But I don't think you really wanna kiss a princess. So let's have a different prize too."

"Why don't you think I wanna kiss the princess?" Damian frowned. He didn't, but he didn't like the assumption. 

"Because you keep staring at me. And I've never seen you stare at girls before." Jon grinned and wrinkled his nose. 

Damian pouted at his teasing, "What will we win instead?" 

"What if the winner gets to kiss a real life prince?" Jon's ears were pink, but his smile screamed confidence. 

"Who's the prince?" Damian raised an eyebrow. 

"You are. You're the closest we have." Jon said. Damian flushed beet red. 

"Deal." He muttered. He had never seen Jon look as wicked as he did when he unpaused that game. He was way more experienced with the game, and pulled combo moves that Damian hadn't even thought of yet. The battle was over in less than a minute. Jon's knight ran up to the princess, dancing a little victory dance, and then he turned to Damian.

"I won." He looked so devilish with his smug little smile. Damian looked at the TV. The little cartoons were kissing for a long time, hands on each other's faces. Damian's stomach twisted. He wasn't sure he really wanted to kiss Jon like that yet, "I don't have to kiss you on the lips if you don't want. I can kiss your hands like a princess if it makes you feel better."

Damian nodded. Jon stood up, and bowed deeply in front of Damian. He took his hand and kissed his knuckles gently.

He hurried to sit back down when Conner entered the room. He was talking on the phone. Damian wasn't sure who but he was swearing loudly. Jon blushed and stared at his lap.

"Why are you blushing?" Damian tilted his head and inched towards him. 

"He said the F word." Jon whispered. 

"What? Fuck?" Damian raised an eyebrow. Jon's eyes went wide. 

"That's a bad word, Damian!" He covered Damian's mouth with his hand. Damian locked his palm, a trick he learned from having three older brothers. Jon pulled his hand away and wiped it on his jeans. 

"I can say whatever I want. And fuck is just having sex." Damian shrugged.

"You know what sex is?" Jon leaned forward. Like Damian had some secret hidden treasure. 

"You don't?" 

"Well I kinda know." Jon crossed his arms defensively, "It's when sperm goes inside a girl and makes a baby."

"I suppose you're not wrong." Damian rolled his eyes. He was missing a lot of steps, but that was fine for now.

"Mom said she would tell me the rest of it when I got older." Jon nodded.

"Middle school is next year. I'm sure they'll clear things up for you." Damian said. 

"Do you wanna watch a movie?" Jon looked over at him. 

They turned on a movie about a dinosaur amusement park. Jon wrapped an arm around his waist and rested his head on his shoulder. He bundled Damian up in a blanket and let him hold Pikachu through the whole movie. Damian hid his face when the dinosaurs ate people. He would never admit to it, but it scared him a little, despite being an entirely irrational fear. He was happy Jon was there.

~*~

Tim had a presentation for his dad when he got home from work. He had finally worked up a prototype and wanted to show his Jason. He gathered everyone up in the dining room with Dick's laptop he borrowed. He hid the new invention under a cardboard box. Dad took the final seat and the tech presentation could begin.

"This idea was inspired by Jason. He said he couldn't hear high pitched sounds very well, even with his hearing aids." Tim started, "If he can't hear a kettle whistle, how is he supposed to hear a timer, or a fire alarm, or siren? And what happens if he takes his hearing aids out?" 

"A very fair point." His dad gestured for him to continue. Tim clicked to the next slide. 

"I got to thinking. I can't fix Jason's ears. Your bones stopped working in there. I don't know how to make you new bones. But, you've got four other senses that work just fine." Tim lifted the box off his prototype. A little ball that sat on a box of electronics and a little microphone. It was a modified lamp that he begged Dick to get him.

"What does it do?" Jason raised an eyebrow. 

Tim clicked to the next slide, "It listens to its environment. You use this dial right here to set a limit, and when it hears a sound that goes over that limit it'll light up."

He set an old kitchen timer and adjusted the dial, as a demonstration. He sat and waited for 30 seconds for it to go off. The lamp lit up on the table. Tim grinned proudly. 

"I'm also working on a mini version so you can carry it around with you. And I'm in the process of modifying a bed shaker alarm clock so it'll wake you up if the smoke alarm goes off in the night." Tim said. 

"How easy is it to change?" Jason bit his lip.

"It's just this little dial, you just have to turn it. And this little dome part twists off in case the light bulb burns out. I just thought it looked neat as a little ball." Tim shrugged. 

"Is this why you needed to set all the fire alarms off?" Dad sighed. 

"Yes. I told you it was an experiment for a good cause." Tim rolled his eyes. He'd been over this. And the fire wasn't even that big.

"Hey, Tim. Thank you. I appreciate it a lot." Jason walked over and hugged him, "Let me know when they add-ons are available."

Tim beamed with pride. He made something useful. He did something good with his talent. And Jason looked happy. 

"Was this a problem you had, Jason?" Dad looked over to him.

"Not often, and usually it's more annoying than anything else. But I'll admit, fire alarms were a concern. Dick and I had an emergency plan set up, just in case." Jason nodded as he looked at the little orb. 

"Now you can be more independent. Especially once i get a better final product finished." Tim smiled at his big brother. 

"Thank you." Jason squeezed his hand softly.


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wally loves Dick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you anon, for requesting this.
> 
> CW: Sex chapter

Wally's parents were out, leaving Dick and his boyfriend home alone. Dick's mind was wandering to all sorts of fun they could have together. Of course, Wally was still avoiding the topic altogether.

"Wally." Dick whined into his boyfriend's shoulder.

"What?" Wally smirked and kissed his forehead. Dick nipped at his neck, "Finally fed up with me?" 

"I've been fed up. I'm just doing something about it now." Dick swung a leg over Wally's lap and kissed his jawbone. 

"Are you sad horny?" Wally asked him. 

"Just normal horny. Because I think you're hot." Dick ran his hands over his shoulders. 

Wally wiggled a hand up between them, "Pinkie promise?"

"Pinkie promise." Dick rolled his eyes and looped their pinkie's together. 

Wally smiled and pushed him into the bed. Dick giggled and held his cheeks, pulling him in for a kiss. Wally purred and pressed closer to him. His hand tangled in Dick's soft, thick hair. Dick whimpered quietly. Ever since Wally realized how much Dick liked having his hair touched, he would comb through it every chance he got. 

Dick reached down and found his boyfriend's cock through his jeans. He ran his nails over the denim, carefully persuading him to harden up. Wally giggled and tugged his hips closer. 

"We can fuck just this once, because I love you so fucking much." Wally yanked Dick's head to the side and bit down in the crook of his neck, sucking a big purple bruise into his skin. Dick sucked in a breath and relaxed into Wally's grip. A flash of concern passed through Dick's head, but he remembered how many times Dad had seen his hickeys already, and let himself enjoy it.

"Let me sit on your lap so I can take your shirt off." Dick giggled. 

Wally smirked and pulled him back up to straddle his hips. His hands went to Dick's backside and squeezed, "God, I missed this."

"Missed my fat fucking ass?" Dick teased.

"And your thighs. And having you so close." Wally tilted his head up to kiss him. Dick steadied himself on the headboard and leaned into the kiss, "Hey, baby?" 

"What?" Dick tugged at the hem of Wally's shirt. 

"You should bend over and let me really manhandle you." Wally muttered.

Dick pulled his t-shirt off. Leaving Wally topless underneath him. Freckles dotted his shoulders. Dick loved his pretty freckles. Mom once told him that freckles were angel kisses, which meant Wally had been loving on some angels pretty hard without Dick. He leaned in and pressed another kiss to Wally's lips, tracing his fingers up and down his firm chest. 

He climbed off Wally to take his skinny jeans off. Which left him in a baseball shirt and navy blue briefs. 

"I still don't get why you don't just wear boxers. They're so much more comfortable." Wally watched him undress.

"Yes, but I do wear women's jeans, because they're cuter. And boxers don't fit under there." Dick shrugged and let his pants fall to the floor before crawling back on the bed with Wally.

Wally pushed his face down into the sheets and sat behind him. He gripped his ass firmly and pressed little kisses to his cheeks. Dick sighed quietly and pushed back against him. He desperately wanted to be spread open. Wally traced the muscles down his inner thighs. Dick felt himself shiver as blood rushed between his legs. 

"You're so fucking strong, baby." Wally said against his skin. He was breathing Dick in so deeply, it made his thighs quiver. He nipped at the sensitive skin just under his ass and made Dick yelp. Wally pulled down his underwear and massaged his opening with his thumb.

"If you fuck me without lube I'm dumping you on the spot." Dick told him. 

"I'm not a monster. I'm just easing into it." Wally insisted. He leaned down the lick a stripe up from his balls. Dick's toes curled as he grabbed fistfuls of sheets, "Oh, you liked that a lot."

"Fuck off." Dick knew he was blushing. 

"Not when I can fuck you instead." Wally dug through his nightstand drawers and tossed something on the bed next to him. 

"Why am I dating you?" Dick rolled his eyes. He let out a groan as Wally lapped as his hole. 

"I think that's why." Wally popped open the bottle of lube and dribbled some on his fingers, "Flip over please."

Dick rolled onto his back and let Wally lean over to kiss him. Luckily he didn't need to think about where his mouth had been for too long before he pressed two of his fingers into Dick. He whined and bit his lip. His cock dribbled on his stomach and he bit down on the hem of his own shirt to keep it out of the way. Wally curled his fingers and Dick saw stars. He moaned loudly. Wally smiled.

"I love your little noises. They're so cute." Wally whispered in his ear. Dick whimpered and spread his legs further. He went a little cross-eyed when Wally wiggled his fingers and tickled the little button of pleasure hiding deep inside him. 

"Keep it up and I'll cum and immediately pass out again." Dick let go of the shirt in his mouth. He didn't really want to stop the waves of pleasure rolling through his body, but he wanted this to last.

"How rude." Wally pulled his fingers out and kissed him, "But you do look amazing when you've been fucked to sleep."

"Then you better make it good." Dick smirked and began to unbutton his jeans. 

"How eager." Wally leaned back to help pull them down. 

"You must have magic fingers then." Dick crawled forward and pulled Wally's cock out from his boxers. Luckily he had a magic mouth that had infinitely more practice.

He purred around Wally as he slid down his shaft. Wally combed through his hair and pushed him down deeper. Dick bobbed his head and felt Wally grow in his mouth. He used his tongue to tease the underside of his cock and swirl around his head. He pulled off and went to suck at his balls, making Wally gasp and grip his hair tighter. Dick giggled and kissed the head of his cock.

"You're so good at that, baby. It's infuriating." Wally pulled at Dick's hair. Dick mewled quietly and nuzzled against his thigh, "I wanna use your mouth so bad."

Dick smirked and rolled over to his back, his head hung off the edge of the bed, "Come use me then, darling."

Wally lined himself up with Dick's mouth and pressed in. Dick loved the feel of his hot, velvety skin, slick with his own saliva. He let his throat relax, allowing Wally to fuck deeper. Dick let his hands come up to grab his ass, pretty and plump and covered with soft blond hair. Wally braced himself with Dick's firm thighs. 

Wally thrust in smoothly. Dick felt his cock hit the back of his throat and press on, determined to slip down into his throat. It felt heavenly. One of his favorite feelings was having something long, hard, and hot pressing down on his tongue. A close second was thighs squeezing around his face and delicate hands tugging on his hair. It felt good to just get used up, until there was nothing left. He moaned softly around around Wally. 

"Oh fuck." He stalled, "You can't do that to me. You know I don't last long."

"I've never known you to take things slowly." Dick pushed Wally's hips away so he could talk, a string of precum and saliva broke from his tongue and hit his nose. He sneezed and wiped his nose with his sleeve. Off came the shirt, leaving him totally naked. Wally let his boxers fall to the ground to even things out. 

"What if I just fuck you so fast I just vibrate you off the bed. Bet you wouldn't complain then." Wally pulled him up to kiss him. 

"Can you do that though?" Dick raised an eyebrow and crawled back on the bed so his head was by the pillows. 

"Well no, assuming my body could actually handle all that force, the friction alone would probably melt us both." Wally frowned. 

"Oh, yes!" Dick threw his head back dramatically, "Tell me how you'll melt me from the inside out, Daddy."

"That's someone's kink." Wally settled on Dick's lap.

"Too bad it's not mine." Dick kissed him, "My kink is you telling me I did a good job, calling me baby, and fucking me until I scream and cum." 

Wally smiled and jerked Dick's hips closer. He pinned one of Dick's knees to the mattress below them. Dick was just in reach of the lube and managed to help get Wally nice and slick. Wally used his free hand to circle his head around Dick's hole. He groaned at the slick heat prodding up against him. 

"I love you so much, baby." Wally buried his face in Dick's chest and pressed in. They both knew he could take it all in one go, but Wally took his time. Dick moaned quietly and relaxed every muscle he possibly could.

"I love you too." Dick tangled his fingers in Wally's hair. Wally pressed their foreheads together and thrust the rest of the way in. Dick gasped and tugged a little harder than he meant to. 

"Careful there." Wally's cheeks were pink under his freckles. His heavy breath smelled like orange tic tacs. A flattering gesture, however small. Wally thrust into him, gently, as if Dick would shatter at the slightest misstep. Dick keened softly and held Wally close. His now glassy green eyes were swallowed up by his pupils. He was getting better at finding Dick's sweetspot, one well aimed thrust made him see stars. His back arched, leaving his neck exposed for Wally's little nibbles. 

He loved the feeling of being stretched open and filled to the brim. Wally sped up, just as he bit down on Dick's throat. He moaned, his knees shaking. Wally's perfectly aimed thrusts made Dick come apart at the seams. Heat was building up in his belly. He melted into Wally's arms as his rhythm became broken and uneven. He kissed Dick as hard as he could with he spilled everything into Dick. Wally gripped tightly onto Dick while he rode out his orgasm. His kisses slowly became softer until he was snuggled up against Dick's chest. 

"Fastest man alive." Dick teased, out of breath and still hard. He could always get himself off later, it happened often enough to stop bothering him. 

"We'll get you a vibrator and it'll solve all our problems." Wally kissed his cheek lazily and slid down to his hips.

"What are you doing?" Dick purred. 

"Just returning the favor, baby." Wally licked a stripe up his shaft. His eyelids were heavy, but he lapped him up with a smile. Dick ran his fingers through his red hair. 

"Fingers please?" It was a close second to what he really wanted.

"While you're full of cum?" Wally smirked, "You'll make a mess."

Dick whimpered and bucked his hips up into Wally's fist, "Please?"

Wally kissed his thigh, "You know I can't say no to you."

Wally slid his two fingers up into Dick while he sunk down on his cock. He wasn't nearly as skilled as Dick, especially blissed out in a post-orgasm high, but he was enthusiastic. He bobbed and sucked on his head while one hand pumped the rest of his length. Dick purred and grabbed at his hair. Dick felt that little bubble of hot pleasure starting to boil in his belly. 

He curled his fingers just like how Dick liked and he groaned loudly at the sensation. He pulled Wally's hair, earning a slight gasp and a glance at how good he looked. His hair was a mess, his eyes glazed over, his lips were plump, red, and shiny with drool dripping from his chin. His neck was red with bite marks, and Dick could only imagine the battle scars he earned. 

That image alone was enough to make Dick's belly tighten. Wally took him in his hand again and stuck out his tongue to lick at him. Dick fell over the edge. 

"Fuck." Dick meant to warn him, but he just made a high squeaking sound. He shot ribbons over Wally's face. To be fair he aimed for his mouth, but he ended up webbed across his cheeks and lips, even up across his nose. Dick's whole body collapsed underneath him. 

"Clean up. Then we can take a nap." Wally told him.

"But I'm sleepy." Dick whined. Wally pulled his fingers out and shoved them into his mouth. 

"You wanted this. Into the shower we go." Wally urged. Dick was already drifting off. 

"Later." Dick whimpered like a child. 

"No. You covered me in jizz, you have to come help." Wally pulled him up out of bed and guided him to the shower. 

"Ugh. Fine." Dick pulled him into the shower after him. He crowded up to Wally, trying to stay warm in the cold air. 

Wally turned the water on and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He rinsed his face off best he could with one hand before he could really hold Dick close.

"I love you, pretty boy." Wally brushed through his hair, trying to soak it all with water. 

Dick didn't have the energy to respond, so he just whimpered and forced himself impossibly closer. 

"Do you need help cleaning up? Or do you wanna do it?" Wally's hands fell on the small of his back. 

"Help me." Dick wrapped his arms around Wally's neck. His boyfriend gently helped clean everything out, keeping a close eye on Dick's face to gauge a reaction. Dick is trying to keep his eyes open under the steamy water. 

"You're such a beautiful boy." Wally kissed his forehead. 

They washed up while enjoying the hot water. Wally helped dry Dick off, kissing each part of his body as be went. They quickly snuck back into his bad room and got dressed just enough that if they got caught, they could blame it on a nap. 

Dick crawled into bed and closed his eyes. Wally slid up next to him and pulled him into his chest. Dick's head tucked perfectly under his chin. Wally played with his soft hair and kissed the top of his head. 

Dick fell asleep. He felt peaceful and fulfilled. It was a welcome change from the raging guilt and shame he was usually overflowing with. Maybe Wally really could help things change for the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No update this Monday. I'm falling behind so I'm going to take some time to get some prewriting finished up.


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, Clark.

Bruce was throwing Clark a birthday party. Something huge, and lavish, and full of people. It was really more for show than anything else, but Clark was thankful either way. He appreciated just how much effort Bruce was putting into it, especially since this wouldn't be a stuffy black tie affair like the gala. The kids were bringing friends, Clark invited Lois, Bruce was bringing out a lot of his friends, they were even holding it at the penthouse.

"Just this once to show you off, and then we can have normal birthdays after this." Bruce kissed his cheek softly. 

"Oh Bruce Wayne wants to show me off?" Clark smirked and wrapped his arms around his waist.

"Yes, because Bruce Wayne is a playboy that needs to show off his little boytoy. I can think of nothing I'd like more than to watch movies with you on the couch and just violently make out." Bruce sighed.

"Maybe we can put a pin in that." Clark winked.

"Stop being cute and get dressed." Bruce kissed him. Clark giggled and changed his clothes. He had been spending more and more time at the manor, staying the night at least twice a week. He had his own toothbrush here now. He was almost considering the possibility of just staying here with Bruce. 

~*~

The penthouse was full of people. There was music and dancing and some drinking, but not much. There was a massive blue and yellow cake on display for later. Jason had a migraine, so he stayed home with Alfred. But the three boys were here. Dick brought Wally, Tim and Damian brought Conner and Jon.

"Clark, I'd like you to meet Commissioner James Gordon and his daughter Barbara." Bruce placed a hand on the small of his back. James shook Clark's hand. The name sounded so familiar. Where had Clark heard of him? 

"It's nice to finally meet you." James had a sweet face, "Bruce says you're a true crime journalist."

"Yeah. I was in business, but there was a conflict of interest." Clark glanced at Bruce, "How do you know Bruce?" 

"I responded to the call when he was a kid. We kept in touch." James smiled. Clark nodded, "How old are you now, Clark?"

"I'm 33 now." He smiled. Bruce slipped a hand into his back pocket.

The commissioner's eyes went wide, "Really robbing the cradle there, aren't you Bruce?" 

"He's cute so it doesn't matter." Bruce pulled Clark closer.

"That doesn't bother you at all?" James looked back toward Clark. 

"No. Bruce is a good guy, and I love him a lot." Clark grinned at Bruce. 

Jon ran up and gave him a hug, "Happy birthday!" 

"Hey, how's Damian?" Clark squatted down to ruffle his hair. 

"He's good. He said he's kind nervous so he asked me to get him a drink." Jon smiled. Bruce reached over the counter and handed him an orange soda. 

"It's his favorite." Bruce told him. 

"Go give him a hug for me." Clark smiled as Jon hurried back to his friend. 

"Is he yours?" James nodded to the boy. 

"No, he's my cousin." Clark shrugged, "I don't have kids."

"Have you two considered adopting another one?" Barbara bat her eyelashes. 

Clark blushed. Had he considered it? They'd never really talked about it before. Bruce must be done by now. Damian was already too old for a new sibling. And Dick would be moving out soon, he couldn't be a big brother all over again now, "We haven't really discussed it before."

"We could. We can talk later." Bruce kissed his cheek, "Tim is trying to climb the decor again."

He left Clark along with the commissioner and his daughter. Dick strolled up to him, pink in the cheeks, and leaned up on his shoulder, "Happy birthday. Nice to see you Barbara, beautiful as ever."

"You're a flirt when you're tipsy. I thought you weren't supposed to drink." She smirked.

Dick giggled, "Don't tell Dad. Wally's watching me, it's fine."

"Is Wally your new boy toy?" Barbara asked. 

"Excuse you," Dick gasped, "We are in love."

"That's a first." James grumbled.

"What's the drama here?" Clark asked him. 

"Dick and Barbara used to date. He cheated on her with an older woman." Gordon whispered. 

"That was not my fault." Dick snapped, "That was manipulation."

"You knew better." Gordon scowled. 

"I was 15. Barbara was in college. I made a lot of questionable decisions. But it's in the past." Dick said. 

"How old is Wally?" James asked. 

"He's 18. I'm older." Dick scowled and turned to leave, "Happy birthday, Clark. Sorry about that."

Clark hurried to catch up with him, "Dick, what's going on? What happened? That doesn't sound like you."

"I was dating Barbara, which I probably shouldn't have done. And then her friends were going out to a bar. And I came with, and it was the first time I'd ever had alcohol before. And I met Liu, she was super nice and got me really, really drunk. I don't remember a whole lot, but I did kinda go home with her that night and we dated for like a month. I thought I was super cool and hip because she was like 28, but she stole like a lot of money from me." Dick babbled, and then scowled, "You didn't hear that from me."

"That's, a lot to unpack." Clark took a deep breath. He took out a pen and notepad and scribbled down a phone number, "My bio sister Kara works with a lot of stuff like this. Talk to her sometime."

"I should. Thanks." Dick stared at the floor and held the piece of paper. 

"I like you kids. You're the closest I've got to having my own kids." Clark shrugged. 

"Do I finally get a baby brother." Dick lit up and clasped his hands over his heart.

"What?" Clark blinked.

"Well we're about due for another brother." Dick nodded, "And Dad keeps talking about weddings. I think a baby would be fun, we're all old now."

"He what?" Clark blinked. 

"Yeah, he keeps talking to himself about good colors and cakes and flowers. And he's got, like, pictures open on his computer. I'm pretty sure he got pinterest." Dick nodded, "Hasn't he already asked you?"

"No, he, just. I had no idea." Clark sighed. Bruce hadn't even mentioned it. It probably wasn't serious, otherwise they would've talked about it.

"Oh. Oops." Dick shrugged, "Surprise I guess?"

Clark bit his lip. Was he ready to get married? He dated Lois for years and the topic of marriage always stayed in the future. Always something to be discussed later. It had barely been nine months with Bruce. Was he ready for that commitment.

"Hey, Dad. I'm not doing anything." Dick shook his head. Clark turned around to see Bruce standing behind him. His heart raced. He silently begged Bruce not to say those dreaded four words Clark wasn't ready to consider.

"I told you no alcohol." Bruce told him. 

"What's alcohol?" Dick smiled.

"No more." Bruce told him. 

"Fine. I'll just go hang out with Wally then." Dick turned and joined back up with his boyfriend.

"What were you talking about?" Bruce wrapped a hand around his hip. 

"Oh, just, uh, nothing, special really. Why do you ask?" Clark grinned. His body was full with anxiety. Bruce squinted but dropped the subject. 

"You seemed upset. Thought I'd ask. I'm going to give a toast and then we can have cake." Bruce gave him a quick kiss and Clark relaxed some. 

Bruce held his glass of champagne and got everyone's attention. Clark was surprised how well he could throw his voice with how quiet he was normally. He wished Clark a happy birthday and told the crowd what a joy it was to have him in his life, and how much love he'd brought into the family. Every breath Bruce took, Clark expected him to drop down with a ring that was much too expensive. It was paralyzing to think about. What would he do? How would he respond?

He was brought back to reality by a gentle applause, and Bruce reminding everyone to get a slice of cake. No proposal, just well wishes on his birthday. Bruce appeared next to him a few moments later. 

"Are you sure you're okay? You look sick to your stomach." Bruce frowned and felt his forehead. 

"I'm fine. Just, thinking." Clark sighed. 

"We could go slip into a spare room and talk if you want to. There's tons of space." Bruce suggested. Clark was terrified to spend even one moment alone with Bruce, "Come on. We're gonna talk things out. Go get some cake and bring it with you."

Clark stared at the floor, but did as he was told. He followed him into a guest bedroom, plate of cake in hand. Bruce sat him down on the bed.

"What's going on? You were fine until you talked to Dick." Bruce crossed his arms. 

"Are we getting married?" Clark blurted out. 

"Do you want to get married?" Bruce asked. 

"I don't know. Dick said you were thinking about it and I just don't know if I can commit to that. I love you, but it hasn't even been a year." Clark bit his lip. 

"Then we won't get married yet. Yes, I have been thinking about it. But I also know you're feeling a little unsure, so I didn't mention it." Bruce shrugged. 

"You're not impatient with me?" Clark blinked up at him. 

"I'm prepared to spend forever with you. Forever will happen no matter when it starts." Bruce told him, "Or it won't."

"How can you be so sure of yourself?" Clark whispered. 

"Because I'm 46. I've never been married. I've barely had a steady relationship before you came along. You're smart, and handsome, and sweet, and good to my kids, and good to me. You make me want to take a lunch break, that's never happened before. You have a unique effect on me." Bruce explained, "What more is there?" 

"I don't know. Am I being ridiculous? Is this an easy decision?" Clark hung his head. 

"No. It's a really hard decision. So it can wait. One step at a time." Bruce sat next time him. Clark rested his head on his shoulder. 

"I love you." Clark sighed. 

"I love you too. Don't stress. Eat your cake." Bruce said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly chapters might be a little shorter from now on, but I have a job now as well as summer classes, so I don't have as much time to write longer chapters.
> 
> I'll also be cutting back to just Friday updates. We are getting close to the end. We can make it through this insanely long fic.


	39. Chapter 39

Dick was buzzed with stress and excitement. So far everything was running smoothly, they had plenty of performers all scheduled, food wasn't an issue, free water bottles everywhere. He didn't really need to stress but he did anyway. 

"Good morning, Dick." Wally kissed his cheek, "You ready to go?" 

"God I hope so." Dick groaned and wrapped his arms around his neck, "Can you do me a huge favor?" 

"Anything for you, baby." Wally winked at him. 

Dick rolled his eyes, "You're such a bitch, go see if they need help at the ticket desk. There was a huge line last I went up there."

"Ugh, that's so boring though." Wally groaned and held his hips. 

"Pretty please?" Dick bat his eyelashes, "For me?" 

"Only if you leave first so I can see your fantastic ass." Wally told him. 

"Deal." Dick said, "I'm gonna go check on Jason." 

He spun around and hunted the crowd for his brother. He was pacing with his headphones on. He was making small movements with his hand and watching the ground. Dick gently tapped twice on his shoulder so Jason could take his headphones off. 

"What's up?" Dick asked. 

"Nervous I guess." Jason shook his head. 

"You'll do great, you've put in so many hours making it perfect." Dick grinned.

"You never get stage fright?" Jason asked. 

"Not really. Once you're up there the lights are too bright to see anything. It's pretty easy to just block it out." Dick reached out to hold his hand. 

"Yeah, but what if-" 

"Stop thinking, just do. Takes the pressure off." Dick promised. 

"That explains a lot." Jason raised an eyebrow. 

"I'm hurt." Dick placed a hand on his chest, "You gonna be okay?" 

"I think so. I'm just, doing what I can." He sighed. Dick hugged him quickly. 

"You're gonna do great." He smiled. He attention was pulled away when he heard a voice he thought was long gone. 

"Sasha Granovski."

It had been years since he'd heard that name, a full decade in fact. He scowled with confusion and turned around. He scanned the crowd, his eyes landing on a familiar face. His now gray hair was buzzed short, his eyebrows still shaved off. His dark eyes were set deep in his rich skin. His face was found and full, although much older now. 

Dick's face lit up and he ran up to him. He couldn't stop himself from throwing his arms around him and hugging him as tightly as he could, "Devchushka! I can't believe you're. I thought you had."

"I was out on a motel call that day, honey." His voice was deep and rumbled in his chest. 

"Are you still Miss Demenor after everything?" Dick asked. It felt odd to say his stage name now, he wasn't sure if he should call back his heavy accent or leave it. 

"Oh no, I dropped the act. I didn't want to attract attention, you know?" She said, "You can call me Carl."

Dick scrunched up his face, "No, that's weird."

"What's life like for you now? Haven't seen a thing about you since you were adopted." Carl asked. 

"I have three little brothers now, one of them is performing with me tonight. I broke my back a few months ago, which sucked but I'm fine. Dad caught me making out with a guy when I was 13, so that was a really fun conversation. I have a boyfriend named Wally and he's a huge idiot." Dick gestured wildly. 

"You were such a flamboyant child." Carl laughed. 

"Some things never change?" Dick laughed, "What about you? Things are better than being a black drag queen in the circus?" 

"I got married. I have a house, and a cat. I wasn't killed by the mafia." He smiled, "Things are going okay. How'd you manage to make it out?" 

"Mother hid me in the closet with a phone." Dick's heart sank. 

"Oh god." Carl's face fell, "I am so sorry."

"It happened. That's why I'm in therapy." Dick shrugged. 

"I'm glad." He smiled, "Now come introduce me to your boyfriend."

~*~

Conner was Tim's best friend in the entire world. He was kind of loud and obnoxious, and maybe a bad influence, but they got along. 

"Bet I can chug this whole bottle of coke." Conner grinned. He had three piercings, and Tim still wasn't sure if he had done it himself or not. 

"I don't think that's a good idea. The carbonation would-" 

"Tim you're so lame. I saw some games set up, let's go win some shit." He strolled over to the carnival game Dick had set up to bring in extra money. Conner paid the booth and obtained his three baseballs. He took careful aim and threw them at the three little bottles all stacked together. Tim knew he used to be a pitcher, and it really showed, he knocked all the bottles over.

"Nice, kid." The lady raised an eyebrow, "Anything from the top row."

"Tim, what do you think?" Conner turned to him. 

"You won though." Tim tilted his head. 

"Yeah but I'm too old for stuffed animals. Bet a nerd like you would like them though." Conner smiled. Tim looked up at the giant stuffed animals. 

He pointed to the big yellow rabbit, "I like that one."

The game operator pulled it down and handed it to Conner, who promptly gave it to Tim. He blushed, "Do you want something to eat?" 

"Oh, sure I guess." He hid his face in the big rabbit. Conner bought him a big pretzel and lemonade, "I can buy stuff. Dad gave me money to spend."

"That's okay. It's for gay people or whatever." Conner shrugged and sat down in the grass, "What do you think about the gay thing?" 

"What do you mean?" Tim frowned. 

"Like your brother is gay, and your dad has a boyfriend, and I don't know, is that like cool or whatever?" Conner leaned back on his hands. He was trying to look so cool sitting there in his leather jacket in June. 

"I don't know, it just sort of is. Why?" Tim shrugged. 

"I think I might be gay." Conner squirmed. 

"Okay." Tim said. What else was he supposed to say? Dad showed up with a boyfriend, Damian just yelled at the dinner table, and Dick was already dating boys when Tim came around. 

"Is that cool with you?" Conner scratched the back of his head. 

"Yeah, I don't really care." Tim said. 

Conner cracked a smile, "I don't really wanna ruin stuff, but I think you're really cute."

"Oh." Tim could feel his heartbeat in his toes. He knew his face was beet red. 

"Sorry if that's weird." Tim had never seen Conner blush before.

"No, I just need to think. Is that okay?" Tim looked into his deep blue eyes. Conner nodded. 

"Is it okay to hold your hand? Not like boyfriends or anything, just you know." Conner fiddled with the zipper on his jacket. Tim thought about his older brothers. They always held hands, and gave each other hugs, and fell asleep together. Surely he could hold hands and still be just friends. 

"Okay, but just friends still." Tim bit his lip. Conner inched closer and took his hand. Tim remembered Dick saying something about keeping your fingers together when you hold hands, you can lace them together when you're dating. Tim made sure to keep their fingers from intertwining so they could stay just friends. 

"Thanks. Sorry for being weird." Conner glanced over to him. 

"That's okay. Thanks for getting me stuff." Tim smiled. He couldn't figure out why on earth Conner would think he's cute. He frequently forgot where he was, and what was happening around him. He would get so wrapped up in things he forgot to eat or sleep. He could barely follow a conversation over all the thoughts banging around in his head. He rambled. He couldn't read a room. He needed micro doses of meth just to feel sane. 

"It's not a big deal. Do you have a name for your rabbit?" Conner asked him. 

"Jerome." Tim nodded. 

Conner laughed, "That's so stupid."

"Oh well." Tim smiled. 

"You should get your ears peirced with me next time I go in." Conner nudged him, "Mom is taking me next week for another cartilage piercing."

"I'd have to ask my dad." Tim said. He wanted to tackled him in a hug and lay on him in the grass, but he wasn't sure if he really wanted to, or just felt like he needed to.

~*~

Jason felt sick to his stomach. Dick was dressed up in a shirt and tie, his shoulders underneath had been painted black and blue with fake bruises. His feet were bare and his shirt closed with little snaps instead of buttons. Jason wore a barely buttoned floral shirt and red leather jacket. 

"Deep breaths, Jason." Dick squeezed his hands. Jason did his best to breathe and squeeze him back, "We can head out together while I announce us."

"Okay, okay that'll work." Jason sucked in a breath and followed Dick out on stage. 

"Good evening everyone," Dick said into the microphone, "I hope you're enjoying the festival. Remember to donate online or at the donation boxes posted around. Our next act is lead by my sweet baby brother, Jason. He's new to performance, so be kind to him."

There was a quiet round of applause. Jason's heart swelled with fear and pride. 

"I am but a lowly backup dancer for moral support, so give it up for Jason Todd!" Dick put the mic back on the stand while the crowd clapped. He squeezed his shoulder as he passed to the silks behind the mic stand.

The music started to play. Jason had picked a song by the Pixies, Bruce pointed out it came from Fight Club, and they decided to play on the theme. Jason took a deep breath as the instrumental picked up. He belted out the first lines with as much power as he could. He knew Dick was behind him flipping and spinning in the air, climbing up and falling down. 

He closed his eyes and just let himself sing as proudly as he could. This was about the time Dick's shirt would come off and show off all the bruises they prayed hadn't smudged under his shirt. Jason swayed to keep time, counting in his head to make sure he could keep track. Every inch of his body was totally absorbed in the music, he could feel the stage rumble under his feet. His voice was rough from practicing all day, but he made it work for him. 

As the music faded out, he heard the crowd roar with applause. Dick was hanging upside down by his feet, Jason turned to check that he was making it out okay. He was standing on the red skill now, he grinned and gave a thumbs up before sliding down like a fireman pole. 

Jason turned back to the audience and felt Dick grasp his hand. His chest was shiny with sweat, and his breathing was hard. He took the mic back from the stand, "Jason Todd everyone!"

He stepped back and gave a grand gesture towards him before clapped himself. They hurried off the stage together and let Dick get out of costume. 

Jason sat outside the theater and lit up a cigarette. A girl with dyed gray hair and black lipstick wandered up to him, "I liked your show."

"Thanks." Jason smiled. She was pretty, and about his age too. 

"I'm Rose." She held out her hand. Jason shook his awkwardly. 

"Jason. Nice to meet you." He said. 

"What are you doing after this?" She leaned up against the wall. 

"Oh, I'm not interested. Sorry." He shook his head. 

She laughed, "Of course you are." 

"No, I'm not. You're very pretty, but I'm not interested." Jason shrugged, "I'd pass you off to my brother but his current relationship is the most stable I've seen and I don't want to fuck him over."

His hearing aids were buzzing again, he needed to make another appointment. He winced and pulled it off his ear to fiddle with it. 

"You're deaf?" Rose's eyes went wide. 

"Could you please move here so I can hear while I fix this?" Jason held his cigarette between his teeth and messed with the little machine, maybe Tim could check it out, "I'm hard of hearing, not deaf." 

"What's the difference?" Rose shook her head. 

"I can still hear some, not a lot, but some." Jason shrugged and hooked it back into his ear. Rose just blinked. 

"You sure you don't wanna get out of here? I know a place." She winked. 

"Thanks but I'll pass." He said. 

Dick found his way to Jason, he was cleaned up and changed, "Hello. Who's this?" 

"She wanted to say she liked our show." Jason said. 

"Oh thank you!" Dick held a hand to his chest. Jason shot him a look and Dick didn't continue, "Put out your cigarette, let's go find Wally."

"Can't I finish?" Jason asked. 

"Fine." Dick groaned and sat on the ground next to him. Rose left and left the two boys alone. Jason, with his big brother, peaceful and safe and calm.


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday Jon

Damian but his lip at the door. He'd asked Dick to drop him off instead of Bruce as to not cause a scene. Dick had babbled the entire car ride over about something inconsequential. He held Damian's hand while they waited for Jon's mother to answer. He hoped he liked the present. 

"You have the away phone, so you can call if you need to come home. I'll be here as soon as I can." Dick squeazed his hand. 

Jon swung open the door and wrapped Damian in a bear hug, "You're here! Just leave the present there, we're having a Mario tournament."

He pulled Damian inside with just enough time to wave goodbye to his big brother. A group of a dozen boys spilled over the couch onto the floor. Two of them were racing little cartoon go karts around a track. Damian blushed, he didn't know this game. 

"We've got a whole chart, see." Jon pointed to the foam board propped up on the chair. Some names were written in, some were not. 

"Oh, am I playing?" Damian asked quietly. 

"Of course, you're going up against Jamie because he beat Keenan." He pointed to a blond boy. Damian couldn't quite tell what his right arm was made off, it was spray painted bright orange and covered with stickers. 

"I've never played before." Damian shook his head. Several of the boys whipped around. Jon shot them a look and they all turned back to the TV. 

"That's okay, we can have a practice round with someone that already lost. Gavin, do you wanna play against Damian?" Jon tapped the shoulder of the boy with curly hair and glasses that were too big for his face. 

"Sure, I guess." Gavin shrugged. Jon grinned and sat down just behind Damian, he held his hand while they watched the race. He quietly explained what each item did, mushrooms made you faster, lighting made the other cars smaller, bullets helped you get to the front. When he raced against Gavin, Jon reached around and pointed out the buttons to push and told him about all the secret shortcuts. 

Damian ended up leaving Gavin in the dust, earning a cheer and a peck on the cheek from Jon. 

"Ew, did you just kiss him?" One of the boys asked. Damian hid his face in his hands. He felt his heart sink into his twisted gut. 

"Yeah. He's cute and likes hugs." Jon said and hugged him tightly from behind. Damian could hear his grin in his tone. 

"Jon, that's gay." He scoffed. 

"Then maybe I'm gay." He stuck out his tongue, "I like Damian a lot, and you all need to be nice to him because it's my birthday and I said so."

Jon kisses his cheek again. Damian wanted to crawl in a hold and die there. Everyone hated him, they didn't want him there. He must've looked upset, because Jon hugged him a little tighter.

"Guys, when do we want cake and stuff?" Jon asked them. 

"Let's finish the first half of the thing, and then it can be fun and dramatic for the finale." Jamie smiled. Jon agreed and combed through Damian's hair. He squirmed and nudged Jon away. The touches felt nice, but the stares he felt pickle on the back of his neck make his stomach churn. 

"Wait, Jon, are you gay?" Gavin asked.

"I don't know." Jon shrugged. He sounded so confident. How could he be so sure if himself when he didn't know. Damian crossed his arms over his chest. He hated parties.

"Well do you like girls or boys? You've gotta pick." Someone asked.

"Why? Why can't I just like people? I like Damian a lot, isn't that good enough?" Jon asked. Damian's heart lept into his throat. Did Jon just like him or did he _like_ like him?

"You like me?" Damian blinked back at him.

"Yeah, I thought I was really obvious about it." Jon frowned, "Don't you like me back?" 

He looked so hurt. Damian's chest ached. Of course he liked Jon. He was sweet and kind and understanding and fun and full of a happiness Damian had never known. He opened his mouth to tell him, but he was interrupted before he started.

"Is Damian your boyfriend?" Jamie asked. Jon looked to Damian, blue eyes full of sadness.

"I, I think," Damian wanted to say yes. He wanted to agree so badly, but he couldn't disobey his father. That would surely end in a beating. His brothers swore Bruce would never, but his brothers weren't nearly as disobedient as Damian, "I think I want to be."

His heart raced, tears welled up in his eyes. He wanted to scream. Why would he say that? Why would he put himself in danger like that. He bit the inside of his cheek until he could taste blood. But the smile that Jon gave made his heart sing. He wanted to tuck his head into his chest and hold his hands and give him hugs.

"I wanna be too." Jon grinned and held his hand. Damian wanted to run away and throw up. He wanted to scream and cry and hide from the world. Everything hurt. How dare he go against his own father? He said Damian didn't need a boyfriend yet. It should wait until he's older. 

"Are we boyfriends now?" Damian blushed. His hands shook. 

"I think so." Jon turned to his friends who all shrugged, "I guess I'm your boyfriend."

"Okay." Damian squeaked. 

"Should we kiss or something?" Jon asked. Damian might scream if he had to kiss Jon in front of everyone. 

"No, that's for getting married." Someone said.

"That makes sense." Jon nodded. Damian let out a breath, "If your my boyfriend can you go get my Pikachu for me? It might be kinda hard to find, so take your time."

Jon smiled. Damian excused himself, but he nearly tripped on the way out. The Pikachu plush was sat on Jon's bed by the pillows. Damian sat on the bed and took the away phone out of his pocket to call his brother. 

"Damian! How's the party? You feeling okay?" Dick asked. 

"I think Jon is my boyfriend now." Damian said quietly.

"Oh my god! Really?" Dick cheered, "That's so exciting!" 

"But Dad said I shouldn't have a boyfriend yet and I said yes anyway and what if he-"

"Hold on, deep breaths. Calm down. Dad won't do a thing. We all break Dad's rules all the time, it's not a big deal." Dick promised. 

"Really? Even Tim?" Damian knew Dick snuck out and bought Jason cigarettes. He knew they'd break curfew to go to parties. But Tim? Tim didn't do much of anything. 

"Tim drinks redbull all the time. He steals shit for parts because he's too nervous to ask about it." Dick said, "We all do dumb stuff."

"And dad doesn't get angry?" Damian asked. 

"No. I've only ever heard him yell once, but I started it, so I'll take the blame for that." Dick laughed, "Go try to have fun, I'll talk to Jason and see what he has to say."

"Dont tell Jason." Damian insisted. 

"He knows better than I do. He can do more to help you. I'll try to leave Jon out of it, but I wasn't abused as a kid, so I just don't know." Dick sighed.

"Okay. Just. Please don't get me in trouble." Damian let out a sob. 

"Oh, Damian. I'm sorry it's hard right now. Keep your phone on so I can text you. Can you get back out there and have fun?" Dick asked.

"Maybe. I think so." Damian nodded.

"Okay, I love you, baby brother." Dick hung up the phone. 

Damian took a deep breath and hugged Pikachu. He was grateful Jon gave him an out for a while to just rest. Pikachu smelled like lavender fabric softener, just like the clean sheets on the bed.

Damian wished he could bury his nose in the smell of Jon. The smell of heat and sunshine. The smell of clouds too far to block out the sun, but near enough to make you think they will. He smelled like taking a walk in July and saving catepillers and worms from damp soil or a heafty fall from a leaf. He wondered what Jon thought he smelled like. 

He took Pikachu back out to the group and plopped down next to Jon. He wrapped an arm around Damian's shoulders and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Damian blushed. 

"Aw, Damian is blushing." Jamie giggled. Damian's face grew impossibly hotter and he hid in Jon's shirt. 

"I know. He's so cute." Jon smiled and hugged him. 

"I'm not cute." Damian mumbled and squeazed Pikachu. 

"Whatever you say." Jon said in a sing song voice, "It's your turn coming up. You gotta go up against Jamie."

Damian came out of his hiding place and took the remote. He thought it would be simple, given Jamie's arm. But Jamie was good, he could cut through corners and race passed the other characters like they were nothing. And Damian was at a serious disadvantage, barely knowing how the game worked. He lost badly, Jamie grinned at his success and the tournament continued.

~*~

Jon's mom had gathered everyone around for presents. She took pictures of him with all the presents. He got new games, and toys, and new baseball gear. He was a whole 12 years old now, the same age as Tim. Much more mature than Damian's 11 years.

It was time for Damian's gift to Jon. He squirmed. What if Jon didn't like it? What if he hated Damian because he gave a bad gift? Jon tore open the paper. 

"The new Monk E Monsters game!" Jon gasped. He lept to hug Damian, "You remember me talking about it."

"I thought it might be fun to play together." Damian said. 

"Jonathan, remember not to play favorites." His mom chided. 

"Sorry mom." He sat back down and thanked Damian politely. 

"It's okay, Jon likes Damian." One of the boys giggled. Jon's eyes went wide and shushed his friend. 

"Jon, you have a crush on Damian?" His mother asked. Jon shrugged, "He's a boy."

"Uh huh." Jon nodded. 

"You have a crush on a boy?" She tilted her head. 

"I guess." Jon was quiet. Damian hadn't ever seen him so nervous before. 

His mom nodded, "We'll talk after the party."

"Okay, Mom." Jon squeaked. Damian put a hand on his shoulder for support. He didn't want Jon to get hurt because of him. 

~*~

Damian was up all night worried about Jon. Did everything work out okay? Did his mom still like him? What did his dad think? 

"Dad, may I please call Jon?" Damian asked. 

"Why? You just saw him yesterday." Bruce looked up from his work. 

"His mom found out, about uhm-" 

"Oh, I see." Bruce nodded. 

"I just wanna see if he's okay." Damian bit his lip. 

Bruce dialed her number, "Hello, Is it alright if Damian talks to Jon for a moment? Yes, I'm aware. Damian talked to me about it a few months ago. I couldn't care less if I'm being honest. Well he's had some bad experiences with his mother in the past, so I don't blame him for being worried. Thank you, I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

Bruce handed the phone to Damian. 

"Hi, Damian. I'll go get Jon for you." She didn't sound angry. That could be a good sign. The phone passed to Jon. 

"Are you okay? Is your mom mad?" Damian asked. 

"What? Why would she be mad?" Jon gasped. 

"Because you're, and I'm, and we're-" Damian wasn't one to stumble over his words, but his hands shook with anxiety and he couldn't form proper sentences. 

"Well yeah, she just wanted to make sure we were all on the same page. She asked if I just liked boys or girls too and I said I didn't know 'cuz I've only ever like you before. And then she asked some stuff about you, but a lot of it I didn't know, so she might ask you next time she sees you." Jon explained. Damian let out a breath. 

"Promise you're okay?" He asked. 

"Pinkie promise." Jon laughed, "Do you wanna play our game at your house or my house?"

"Uhm, we haven't been to my house that much. I could show you my room." Damian said. 

"Okay. I'll ask my mom and you can ask your dad." Jon said. Damian could relax, they all sounded happy and safe, and okay. Now he just needed to make sure Dad didn't find out they were boyfriends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this was so late!


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday Tim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me, posting when I'm supposed to.

Tim was having a great birthday. Conner brought his family, Clark's parents came, Alfred's daughter, Kate, even Grandma Annabelle.

"Come meet my friends." He grinned when he saw her. She was in a long floral dress, her pink hair curled softly around her face. Tim bounded through the crowd and found his little group, "Barry, Cassie, and Conner."

"Hello. I'm Timmy's grandmother." She laughed. His friends all waved.

"Timmy?" Conner smirked.

"Yeah, why?" Tim blinked at him. 

"Nothing. It's just cute." Conner scratched the back of his head.

"Conner and Timmy sitting in a tree." Barry teased. Conner glared at him. Cassie laughed. 

"Wait, you all knew about-" 

"Yeah, we're not stupid. You didn't notice he was in love with you?" Cassie shrugged. Tim shook his head. 

"I'm not in love with him." Conner crossed his arms and stormed off. Annabelle laughed. 

"What's the gossip here?" She stage whispered to Cassie. 

"Oh, so Conner just found out he's actually gay. And he told Tim he had a crush on him, but Tim rejected him. Also Conner's little brother and Tim's little brother are in love and it's super cute." Cassie gestured over to the dance floor where Jon was teaching Damian how to dance. 

"Oh how precious." Annabelle gasped. Tim slipped away to look for Conner. He was leaned up against the wall scowling out at the guests. He actually wore a dress shirt, and nice shoes, and he'd done his hair. 

"Conner." He rushed up to him, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He stared down at the ground. 

"Are you sure? You don't seem fine." Tim took a step forward. 

"Well I am. So you can leave." Conner shrunk down into himself. 

"Are you mad at me? I still love you, you're my best friend." Tim held his hand. 

"But not like I do." Conner pulled away at sat on the floor. 

"I don't know. Maybe." Tim knew this was a bad idea. He knew he shouldn't poke this bear. But he couldn't force himself to walk away, it was out of his control. He sat down next to Conner, "I have a lot of feelings towards you. A lot of good, happy, fuzzy feelings. I know I love you, so much, but I don't know what kind of love I'm feeling. And I'm just, so confused and-" 

Conner had held his cheeks and kissed him. Tim froze, trying to process what was happening. His face was hot, his eyes wide. His stomach tightened. Why did people like kissing so much? It felt like anything else touching his lips, but warm and wet. The movies said your first kiss was supposed to send sparks flying, and make you fall in love all over again. But it was just a little weird. Tim was thoroughly disappointed. Maybe kissing girls was better? 

Conner blushed when he pulled away, "Sorry, I just, I don't know, I won't do that, I'm sorry."

"I just told you I was confused." Tim stood over him. 

"Tim wait," Conner grabbed his hand. Tim pulled away, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" 

"Didn't mean to what?" Tim snapped. He knew he wouldn't be angry for long. He was never angry at him for long. But even so, he still left Conner there. He saw tears pricking the corners of his eyes, and he still left him behind. 

Tim left the ballroom and walked down the hall to the family bathroom. He locked the door and paced around the room. He muttered to himself quietly to help move the conversation along and keep from looping the same thought. 

Conner kissed him. Tim knew that was his first kiss too, they'd talked about it plenty. They'd shared their first kiss together. Conner had held his face and it was sweet, and gentle, and clumsy. Tim's heart fluttered in his chest remembering the feeling. He imagined Conner's hands on his hips, pulling them closer. Could Tim sit in his lap? Would Conner growl? Would he kiss at his jaw? 

No, back on track. Tim needed to stay clear. First, was he gay? He'd never payed any attention to boys. Although he'd never payed any attention to girls either. His project had taken up most of his time, even school tended to slip through the cracks. What about being a kid? He didn't remember much before being adopted, but he remembered getting a funny feeling in his chest watching Danny Phantom with Jason. But he got the same funny feeling watching Kim Possible with Dick and Shego came on screen. He was equally interested in Ariel and Prince Eric, Rapunzel and Flynn Ryder. He wanted to scream. He had to pick one. He could only have one. 

But Dick liked girls and boys both. He'd come home in the middle of the night limping just as often as he had covered in lipstick. He seemed perfectly happy, but he refused to put a word to it. Tim needed a label. He needed to name it, otherwise it didn't exist. Dick and Bruce both said queer, which was much too vague for Tim. And he'd only ever heard bisexual used when the boys at school talked about porn, or a parent muttering the word under their breath like it was a swear word. 

But what else was there? His fingertips buzzed thinking about Conner and the possibility of kissing him again. Maybe he should talk to Dick. Maybe he had the right words for him. He would go talk to Dick, and regroup after that. 

Wally had an arm hooked around his waist, keeping him pulled close. Dick was pecking little kisses to his cheeks. He stopped when he saw Tim, "Hey, what's up?"

"Sorry, you're busy. I'll go talk to Dad." Tim sighed. 

Dick pushed Wally away and put a hand on Tim's shoulder, "You look distressed. And Dad sucks at talking about feelings. Talk to me."

"How did you know you weren't straight?" Tim bit his lip. 

"I just kind of knew. I just did what felt normal, and normal was flirting with boys." Dick shrugged, "Are you thinking you're gay?" 

"I don't know. Maybe. Conner came out to me at your festival thing, and told me he had a crush on me. And then tonight he kissed me, and I panicked, and I think I yelled at him and made him cry. But I was thinking about it, and I really like kissing him, a lot. And I think I like both? Maybe? I haven't figured that out yet." Tim bounced on his toes. His mind was racing with possible endings to the night. 

"Okay, let's go load you up with sugar and figure this out. Can Wally come with or should I tell him to stay?" Dick asked. 

"I don't care." Tim shrugged. Dick filled up a plate with cake and cookies and chocolates and sat down with him at a table, "What do I do?" 

"You think like girls and boys both?" Dick asked. Tim nodded, "Okay, what do you need me to do for you?" 

"What do I call it? Like, I'm not gay, because I like girls, and I'm not straight because I like boys. So what am I?" Tim asked. What was his word? What would make his feelings real and tangible? 

"Well, Wally's bi, so he likes multiple genders." Dick gestured to his boyfriend, "But he has a pretty strong preference for women."

"You can do that?" Tim blinked.

"Do what?" Dick furrowed his brows. 

"Like both but like one more?" Tim asked. 

"Sure. That's pretty normal." Dick shrugged. 

"Okay." Tim nodded. 

"You could be pansexual, so attraction to all genders. Or you like specific traits in people separately from their gender. You can still have a preference. If you think beards are hot, then you'll like more men than women." Dick explained. 

"Maybe that one?" Tim groaned. This was hard. 

"You can also just be questioning. That's fine. You don't know yet, but you're figuring it out." Dick said, "You're 13, you may be a man in the eyes of God or whatever, but you're still a kid. Do what feels good to you."

"Should I go talk to Conner?" Tim put his head on the table. 

"What do you want to do right now?" Dick asked. 

"I wanna kiss him again." Tim muttered. 

"Then go kiss him. Right now your word is questioning, and we can figure it out together." Dick rubbed his back. Tim nodded and left to go find his friend. 

He was huddled on the ground, Barry's arm around his shoulders. Cassie held his hand. Conner's eye's were red and his cheeks were blotchy and tear stained. He hid his face when he saw Tim. 

"I'm sorry I yelled at you." Tim told him, "Can we talk for a minute."

Casdie and Barry glanced at each other and left. Tim sat on the floor next to him, "What do you want?" 

"I was just thinking about stuff. Trying to figure things out. I talked to my brother." Tim shrugged, "Can you please look at me?"

Conner looked up at him with his big, sad eyes. Tim leaned in to capture him in another kiss. This time was better. He was present now. He could close his eyes and feel his heart race in his chest. This time he didn't freeze up or jerk away. Conner looped a hand around his waist and cradled his cheek gently. His cheeks were wet with tears, but that was alright. Tim wasn't sure what to do with his hands, so he just bunched them up in Conner's shirt. 

"Do you wanna go out with me sometime?" Connor asked. 

"Okay. Where do you wanna go?" Tim smiled. 

"I'll text you." Conner buried his face in his shoulder. Tim's head felt fuzzy and warm. He wished Conner would pick him up and carry him. Or at least pull him into his lap and kiss him senseless, "You know. My mom doesn't know I'm gay."

"Should you tell her?" Tim asked. 

"I was thinking maybe we could spend the night." Conner said. 

"Oh." Tim whispered, "I don't know if-" 

"No, no, no. We won't, if you don't want, I mean we could, but no sex stuff probably." Conner stumbled, "I just want to hold you."

"Okay." Tim kissed his hair, "You won't get in trouble?"

"Don't worry about me." Conner laughed. 

"I'll talk to my dad." Tim promised.


End file.
